“I did what I had to do.” The second those words are out of Susie’s mouth, Brielle’s hand smacks across her face. Susie’s head hits the wall from the force alone, and blood trickles out of her mouth.
Damn, my girl is strong.
“What was the plan, Susie? Bexley was next, right? Or was it me? Is this what you do? You hire women who are desperate for help and then sell them to the highest bidder to pay off your debt?” Brielle lets out a laugh that holds no humor as Susie gives her a death glare. “Answer me,” Brielle growls.
“Yes! That’s exactly what I’ve been doing! The stupid bitches that come looking for work are the ones that sell at the highest price. I was so goddamn close to being free of Peter! You were it, Brielle! I only needed you, and I would have been free!” Susie screams, and spit goes flying.
“When is the next auction, Susie? You have nothing else to lose. You won’t be leaving here alive. Even if I’m the one to take your pathetic excuse of a life, so get it all off your chest now,” Brielle goads her, and it seems to be working.
“Two weeks. It’s in two weeks. I don’t know anything else,” she says, defeat crossing her face. “It’ll be at an underground warehouse on the outskirts of Jamestown.”
“How many women?” I ask, wanting to know how many rooms we’ll need to prepare and how much backup to bring.
“There were supposed to be fifteen, including Brielle, so fourteen as far as I know.” The way she so casually talks about Brielle like that makes me want to slit her throat and watch her bleed out.
I need to call Archer and Killian. This is a fucking mess. Two weeks to find the hidden location, wait for a text message for thepiece of shit I killed earlier to come through on his phone with the password to get in and the time. Fourteen women who will need to be rescued and weaned off whatever drugs they got them addicted to.
I need air. I need something. I need to get out of this basement.
“I’ll be back. I need to call Killian and Archer,” I tell Brielle, and she nods.
“I’m going to stay here,” she says, looking back over at Susie, then to me. I know she needs more answers.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes. Just yell if you need me, I’ll be right out the door.”
I make my way up the stairs and pull out my phone, sending a message to Archer and Killian to have one of them call me ASAP. Let’s hope this is enough.
39
EMRIS
Pocketing my phone,I push through the door and lean against it, pressing my weight back into the wood. I close my eyes, letting the information I found sink in. Not even a few minutes later, the front door opens and slams shut. I fully expected to find Carson walking in, but instead it’s Troy.
“What’re you doing here?” I ask, pushing off the door and moving to the fridge to grab some water, keeping him in my line of sight.
“Carson asked for help with the cleanup,” he says, “but I told them I’d stay here in case you needed help with anything else.”
His words seem almost practiced—too smooth. Troy and I were at each other’s throats not that long ago, and now he’s suddenly volunteering? I twist the cap off the bottle, watching him over the rim of plastic. Troy is a fucking snake in the grass. The kind that smiles while it waits for you to turn your back.
“Gotcha. I’m good here. If you want, you can go hang out at Carson’s.” I chug some of the water before placing it down on the counter, hoping it’s enough to get him the hell out of my house.
“Sounds good. I’ll catch you later.” He nods and walks toward the front door, but stops and turns on his heels. “Oh, I wasmeaning to ask. How’re things going with Brielle? I haven’t seen much of her recently.”
“I’m not answering questions about her to you. Are you done now?” I ask flatly. This asshole needs to get out of my house, now. The way he’s asking about her so casually has me on edge. Ever since the first night he met her, and the way he acted with her, it’s all been weird.
Troy’s smile widens. “Relax. Just making conversation.”
I step closer, just enough to remind him whose house he’s in. “You don’t get to talk about her.”
For a split second, something dark passes over his face, and then it’s gone only to be replaced with the same easy smirk. “Touchy,” he says. “Guess that answers my question.” His laugh fills the room, and I really want to grab a kitchen knife and stab him in the jugular right about now.
“You know, I always wondered what she saw in someone like you,” he says. “Someone who kidnapped her, after all. She deserves someone so much better.” Troy tilts his head to the side, and I know he had no intention of leaving when he stepped toward the door. No—he’s up to something else and whatever it is I don’t have time for it.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. Probably Archer or Killian. I slide my hand into my pocket and manage to accept the call, keeping it going just in case. If something goes wrong, at least someone will hear it.
“And why do you think that, Troy?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant, even if on the inside I’m screaming at myself to be ready.
“Because she shouldn’t be stuck with a piece of shit like you, Emris.” He steps closer, and it takes all my self-control—which isn’t much after today—not to add him to the other dead body.
