Sweat clings to my forehead as the reality of what I’ve just done settles over me.
I’ve given away my lifeline.
“Biding starts at twenty thousand, do I have twenty grand?”
“Thirty,” a man’s voice shouts, and my breath falters. What have I done?
I glance back at Tonya, her stance surer. When our gazes connect, her eyes soften, glassy with emotion, and the corners of her lips lift in a trembling smile. She dips her head so slightly, I’m sure no one’s seen.
They’re so wrapped up in the numbers creeping up. No one knows they saw a girl helping another for several seconds. They don’t know.
“Seventy-five thousand. Do I have seventy-five?”
Raw and utterly terrified, I steel my face and scan back over the crowd. But when I do, I land on a stone-cold glare. It cuts through the crowd like a sharpened blade and stops me in my tracks. Those blue eyes. Even with bodies shifting around him, I know them.
Slade’s brows are drawn down, jaw ticking, while he tracks his stare toward Tonya and then back to me. He dips his head in a silent shake.
“Eighty-seven thousand. Going once, twice, sold!”
CHAPTER TWELVE
SLADE
“If I see one more gold tie, I’m cutting off the head of the person wearing it.” Kenji kicks a rock beside Knox, standing guard at the underground garage gate. We’ve been here for almost twenty minutes, and I want to go. Kenji, on the other hand, hates Friday Markets and would rather shoot the shit with Knox.
Knox snorts. “It’s Gold Weekend. What’d you expect?”
“A sense of pride.” Kenji adjusts his black tie.
Lucky for Knox, he’s not a member of EV, just a hired EV guard with a twisted sense of morality like the handful of us.
I snarl at my gold tie and shake my head at Kenji’s blatant disregard for Gold Weekend. Not that I care about the twenty-fifth Market of the Year, but because only he can get away with it. Well, maybe Vaughan as well. Two of the most dangerous men in the world. Not me though. I’m a DuPont. My grandfather practically lives up Graves’s ass and vies for a seat at the Eight himself. Not participating would be sacrilege at this point.
“Anyone hear from Vaughan?” Knox asks.
Kenji and I both nod at the same time. Then Kenji has the audacity to look hurt.
I smirk.
“Told him he’d better bring me back some damn exotic sushi with how many dinners he’s stood me up on.” He drags a hand through his black hair, letting it brush the tops of his shoulders. The dragon on his neck flexes as he lets out a playful laugh. “What do you say, Slade. Time to go in? It’s about Market time.”
I nod.
“You bidding tonight?” Knox asks. “No new girls.”
I’m aware; my grandfather told me.
Kenji speaks for me. “He’ll probably snag one he hasn’t been able to yet. Heard Graves did a number on one of the girls last week. Should buy her.” He tests his tongue against the roof of his mouth with a frown. “I hate the way that sounds.”
Graves’s violence with the girls is well known. Poor girl. Graves knows the limits, though. He has money invested in these girls and is addicted to the cash they bring in each week. He takes it just far enough to satisfy himself.
Thea, though. She was angry, and I was stunned by the fiery annoyance the medic provoked in her—that he wasn’t working fast enough.
Knox adjusts his tactical vest and brings a hand to his earpiece. “DuPont and … Kenji entering through the lower level.”
Kenji reaches over and rubs his buzzed head. “So formal, brother. Slade’s proud.”
I roll my eyes. Then stride through the garage area and get in the elevator with Kenji to go down.
