It’s not that they don’t want me to talk. It’s that they prefer I be dead.
My blood runs cold, and I slide my gaze up to Nix’s. His jaw is ticking, but his focus is solely on Andre, expression hard and full of murdering promises. “Are you done?” Nix asks him.
“Not quite,” Andre answers, turning his smile toward Nix.
I look at his ‘date’ as it comes to me why she’s so reserved, possibly why she’s on drugs. She’s for sale, and as she finally meets my eyes, it’s then I realize that she knows it too. Maybe not the full extent; maybe she thinks that she’s for sale to sleep with, but this isn’t by choice.
I clear my throat to rattle the lump forming there before I ask, “What’s your name?”
“Anya,” she answers in a thick, hard accent.
My next swallow is thick. “Russian?”
She nods and watches me openly.
“What brings you to the United States?” I don’t know why I’m even asking. Chances are that she won’t survive the night, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. I should have worn a mic, and then I could tail her and have all the information down to save her. But that would mean arresting Andre and never getting to the top.
Somehow, I feel like I have to choose: her life or taking down the head of this entire shit show, therefore saving many more victims.
Andre nudges her, and her necklace glints in the lights, catching my eye. I barely hear what he says because that necklace . . . it’s missing a red ruby.
My heart skips a beat.
“Enough talk,” the asshole hisses. “She’s here just for show. Not to make new friends.”
Rage fills me because I know for sure now that she was in that shipping container. Starved. Dirty. Scared.
I direct my rage toward Andre and feel Nix fidget beside me. “Someday, you’ll rot in hell,” I hiss, and he has the audacity to look shocked.
Nix must sense my mood switch and my readiness to murder this evil man right where he stands because he grabs my elbow and steers me away.
And I let him. Murder isn’t in anyone’s plans back at the station, though I’m sure they wouldn’t fault me.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Feenix Blaylock
With Charlie’s elbow firmly in my grip, I haul her from living space to living space in search of somewhere private. I know a room, one that doesn’t have any cameras or listening devices. We weave between the people who occasionally reach out and touch or greet her, but I ignore them entirely. I have to get her out of here before she says another goddamn thing that could end up with her dead.
It doesn’t take long to find the room I’m looking for, and thankfully, it’s unlocked. I open the mansion’s den and steer her inside before shutting the door softly behind me. What I really want to do is slam it closed just to show her how pissed off I am, but the last thing I need is to draw attention to her admirers.
I face the door and bow my head while my shoulders rise and fall heavily with my rage. I don’t bother turning onthe lights. The lit fire on the other side of the room is enough to see.
“What?” Charlie hisses sassily. “Am I not allowed to speak either?”
I raise a hand and reach out in front of me to grip the door frame with more strength than necessary. “Watch your tone.” My head still bowed, I add, “You have no idea who you’re talking to.”
“I know enough.”
I whip around to face her. I clench and unclench my fists at my sides, letting my nails bite into my palms to calm me. “No, you don’t. You don’t even know that your actions tonight, what you said to Andre, will only come back at you, and not in a way you’ll like. He may seem all nice, Charlie, but he’s a wolf, just like me. The only difference is that he’s hungry for you, and you just gave him the fuel he needs to hunt you.”
She laughs without humor and crosses her arms. “I’m not an easy meal, I can assure you that.”
I cross the distance between us quickly. She stands firm as I shout, “Keeping you alive is difficult when you won’t let me!”
Her head whips back as if I’d slapped her. I’ve never talked to a woman like that before; I’ve never lost my cool, but damn it! She’s making this impossible. “What are you talking about?”
She has no idea. She has no idea what I do behind the scenes to make sure she still breathes by the end of the night.
