Trey - Shandi Boyes Page 0,45
who falls on the knife when Trey realizes how I deceived him.
My fear takes on an entirely new meaning when the dark-haired man growls, “We don’t negotiate with whores. We tell them what to do, and they either listen or die.”
“We’re not whores,” I fight back in Czech. “We’re mothers, sisters, and daughters. Women who deserve to be treated better than we’ve been.” I shift my eyes from the dark-haired man to the woman he calls his Ahren when I recall what Trey said earlier. She may understand me. “My sister. He took my sister. I need her back. Please.”
It takes me repeating myself another three times before she whispers something into the dark-haired man’s ear. I can’t hear anything she says through the thump of my pulse in my ears, but I’m reasonably sure she’s the only woman in this compound capable of helping me. She has control of the dark-haired man’s heart—just like Ana does Achim. That’s why his wife sent her away. She knew it would be only a matter of time before he gave her crown to Ana. Since she didn’t want that to occur, she sold his favorite whore like the commodity she is.
My grip on the glass loosens when the pretty redhead recites what I tell her to the man using his body as a barricade to keep her safe, “Her sister was here last night but vanished this morning. She wants to know where she went.”
“Her sister was here last night?” the man double-checks after swallowing harshly.
“Spala vedle mě, ale když jsem se probudil, byla pryč.“
She struggles to understand me, but she gets the gist of what I’m saying. “She’s adamant her sister was sleeping next to her last night, but when she woke this morning, she was gone.”
When Trey left with my orange, I laid down next to Ana, hoping to rest through the hunger pains ripping through me. My head had barely hit the pillow when my arm was suddenly clutched, and I was dragged out of the room.
Once again, no one came to my aid.
Ana didn’t even budge an inch.
I had barely escaped the man’s vicious clutch when he shifted his focus to Ana. I tried to hold onto her. I gripped her to the death, shredding my nails through her arm as well as the man’s grubby ones had done to mine, but my fight wasn’t enough. He disappeared down the corridor with a half-asleep Ana faster than I could snap my fingers.
That’s when I ran to the kitchen, unaware I was wasting precious seconds.
Tears burn my eyes when the dark-haired man shifts on his feet to face Trey. “Where’s her sister?” I told you the redhead owned the key to his heart.
Trey shrugs, truly unsure. “I don’t know. We’ve got nearly every nationality covered in this room, but none of the girls speak English.”
“How many women did you bring here last night?”
“Seventeen,” Trey answers him after a quick mental calculation. “Six each in the first two SUVs and four in the last.”
“That’s sixteen,” the man roars, startling me so much I jump.
The possessiveness in Trey’s tone can’t be missed when he confesses, “One rode with me.” The blue-eyed man appears as shocked as I felt when Trey separated me from the pack. I was scared by his attention, but if I’m honest, that wasn’t the only emotion I experienced. I was also excited. Not once since the night in the butler’s pantry have I been chosen first, so once again, my wailing confidence craved his attention.
Unease melds through my veins when Trey mutters, “She reminded me of India.”
If I were missing any pieces of the massive puzzle in my head, I’m not anymore. India isn’t a common name like Ana and Sarah, but it grew more popular when India Dvořák married aristocratic royalty, Achim Novak, in a lavish, multi-million-dollar ceremony six years ago. Citizens of Czech have a weird fascination for naming their children after important members of society—even ones that cheat, rape, and steal for everything they have.
My mind jumps from the past to the present when the dark-haired stranger shouts, “I told you not to move until I said so!”
“I did,” Trey replies, nodding. “I told Rory to sit on them until you gave us word on what you want done with them.”
His confession is like a whack to the stomach. I knew I had seen that man before. “That’s him,” I garble in Czech. “That’s the man who took Ana. Rory. He has her somewhere