Trey - Shandi Boyes Page 0,86
long to give the word to strike. I’m wary she somehow got word about our raid.”
“By whom?” It’s clear from the information Nikolai shared during our eighteen-hour flight to Czechia that India is well-aware of Achim’s kinks. That’s one of the reasons she agreed to marry him. With his family money, the Dvořáks became untouchable.
Well, so they thought. If the number of bodies I trekked past during my sprint for the evacuation vehicle are anything to go by, they just lost several key members of her crew.
I’ll take care of the rest once K is stable.
It may be six weeks, it may be six years, but India Dvořák should enjoy her last breaths because they’re limited.
Nikolai’s chest rises and falls three times before he mutters, “I don’t know, but I intend to find out. When I do—”
“That fucker is dead.”
Nikolai loses the chance to reply when the creak of a door sounds through our ears. The whiteness on Dok’s face is nothing out of the ordinary, he has super pasty skin, but the concerned pinch of his brows frustrates me. “How is she?”
He half-heartedly shrugs. “Physically, she’s stable. She gained a little weight the past three months, and her vitamin D deficiency doesn’t seem as bad.”
I swish my tongue around my mouth, praying it will help with my next set of words. When I stumble them out like a teen sucking on his first tit, I realize it was a waste of time. “Was she… did they…”
I stop blubbering like an idiot when I spot Dok’s headshake. “There are no bruises or tearing associated with… that. She has old injuries, but from what I could tell, she hasn’t been penetrated the past ten to fourteen weeks.”
Although appreciative she wasn’t raped during my watch, something still feels off. “What aren’t you telling me, Dok?”
He guides me to the back of the jet, so our conversation isn’t overheard by my brothers returning from battle. “K’s mental stability is very concerning. She’s in what we call an acute psychosis. She has no sense of reality and is unresponsive to both touch and command.” He locks his concerning blue eyes with mine. “I don’t even think she knew I was examining her.”
In a way, that makes me happy. The less invaded she feels, the quicker she’ll come out of the dark. “How long will her psychosis last?”
Dok shrugs again. “I truly don’t know. I’ve never seen a condition as bad as K’s. Some patients go in and out of psychotic episodes within hours, some last months, even with intensive therapy.” He licks his lips before breathing out slowly, “Then there are a handful who never recover.” He doesn’t directly say it, but I know he’s placing K in that category. “I wish I had better news for you, Trey, but unfortunately, I don’t. The best we can do is make her as comfortable as possible and for her to know she’s safe.”
I can’t talk. I’m too gutted to speak. The fight in K’s eyes was one of her most attractive features, and I’m devastated a prick like Achim Novak has stolen that from her. Anger surges through me as an overwhelming desire to kill echoes in my heart’s beats. I want to kill a man who’s already dead before resuscitating him so I can kill him all over again.
Sensing my unease, Dok whacks my shoulder in an it’ll-be-all-right way before he moves for a group carrying Eight into the plane. If the way he’s clutching his stomach is anything to go by, he’s sporting a bullet wound. His second for me if the memories in my head are anything to go by.
When I go to help my brother in arms, Nikolai steps into my path. “Go to your queen. She needs you more than Eight.”
“You heard what Dok said—”
“Yeah, I did,” he interrupts, “but I also know he’s full of shit.” He slants his head like we don’t stand at almost the same height before saying, “He said the same thing about you, and look at you now. Life is your fucking oyster, Trey, so show your queen what she’s got to come back to.” After another head slant, he adds, “Unless you want me to order one of my men to keep her warm?”
Nikolai snickers like a dumb fuck not in fear for his life when I pin him to the cabinets we’re standing next to by his throat. I have my blade a millimeter from his jugular, and the adrenaline from a