“Protest all you like, but she’s our greatest asset in helping to retrieve the other women, along with whatever information we can get our hands on. God knows the shit Luther was up to. This might be our only chance to find out.”
Long moments of tension-filled silence pass. Nobody talks. Nobody moves. We all sit there, weighing our options or lack thereof. It’s a case of saving the other women or letting them die, which, to me, means there’s no option at all.
“Do you really think it’s necessary to take her?” Keira asks. “Can’t she just tell you everything she knows?”
“No, I think he’s right.” Torian leans back in his chair. “We’ve been to Luther’s house once already. And I can’t think how we’d get past the guarded gate without her. Those rifle-toting assholes won’t let us in without permission. She could be our ticket inside.”
“Fucking hell.” Decker wipes a hand down his face. “There’s gotta be another way.”
“There might be. The question is—do we have enough time to figure it out?” I return to massaging my temples. Then the back of my neck. I do everything and anything to try and relieve the pressure in my skull. “Penny has already said Luther’s men will start taking action if their boss doesn’t make contact within a certain amount of time.”
“How long is that?” Hunt asks.
“She doesn’t know.” I close my eyes, the lack of bright light helping to ease the pain in my head. “Our window for action might have already passed.”
I relax into the darkness, my nausea receding. All I need is a few more minutes to pull my shit back together.
“What if it’s a trap? She doesn’t seem all that keen on sharing our company,” Hunter adds. Maybe she wants to go back to the place where she feels comfortable. This could be a case of ‘better the devil she knows.’”
“It’s not.”
My pulse spikes at the sound of her voice and I force myself not to react. I don’t raise my head. I don’t open my eyes either, not until Decker whispers a harsh curse under his breath.
I push upright and see her walking toward us dressed in one of the spare T-shirts I’d left in the bathroom. And no fucking pants.
The sight of her is pure fragility.
A gorgeous figure dwarfed by baggy material.
It’s the strong set of her shoulders, the confident stride, and the high arc of her neck that make it clear she’s not letting her guard down anytime soon.
“I don’t want to go back to Naxos for any reason other than to get my sisters.” She wraps her arms around her middle, the loose material hitching higher to reveal more of her perfect thighs. “And I promise I’m not setting a trap. As far as I know, nobody else was aware of Luther’s motives for coming out here. His guards won’t suspect foul play. At least not yet.”
“How do you know?” Hunter grates. “I understand you’ve been stuck with him for a while, but you can’t tell me you were by his side every minute of the day.”
“Hunter,” Keira warns. “Tread lightly.”
“I am. I just can’t comprehend the son of a bitch divulging information in front of one of his…” The sentence hangs and tense silence is the only thing left to fill the void.
“One of his sex slaves?” Penny finishes for him. “You can say it. A few words aren’t going to break me.”
Everyone winces, except me.
I see her strength. The determination. It’s beyond admirable.
“And you’re right,” she continues. “He held his cards close to his chest. I rarely heard his plans for anything, except for the week when he punished me like a dog. I was leashed and dragged along by his side. He never let me out of his sight. I overheard every conversation he had for seven days. And none of them involved him sharing information with anyone other than Chris, Robert, and a few other people who I’ve never met before. His guards were always kept on a need-to-know basis.”
Anger consumes me, the heat of rage inspiring a tick to form at the top of my right cheek.
Luther treated her like a dog. A fucking animal. And I can see from the ease with which she talks about it that it was far from her worst punishment.
I push from the table, breaking the silence and stealing the pity-filled glances away from Penny as I go in search of caffeine. “We can make a surprise attack.”
“Maybe some of you could.” Her gaze follows me. “That’s still an option. But it’s better to approach legitimately. Distract the guards with our arrival. We can pretend Luther wanted me taken back without him. That way any covert action is less likely to be noticed. It also gets a car inside the gates so we’ve got an easier escape.”
“It also makes whoever is in that car a sitting duck,” Hunt drawls. “It’s too risky.”
“No riskier than someone scaling the wall and getting stuck on the inside.” She holds my gaze as if I’m the person she needs to convince. “They’re trigger-happy. One glimpse of action and they’ll shoot. They won’t pause to ask questions.”
“And neither will I.” Decker shoves from the table, his chair scraping along the tile. “I also can’t sit here and participate in planning something that will risk your life all over again. I’ll help with whatever needs to be done, but I refuse to encourage any of this shit.”
He stalks for the hall, Keira scooting from her chair to quickly follow after him.
Penny doesn’t watch him leave. She keeps her gaze on me, her silent regret passing between us. I see her—the fragility beneath the strength, the love for her brother hidden behind her shields.
“Don’t worry. He’ll be fine.” I pivot to the cupboards and pull out a tin filled with cookies. “You still haven’t eaten.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’re either lying, which I’ve already warned you about, or you’re still in shock. And both would improve with a sugar fix.” I place the tin on the counter, remove the lid. “It’s non-negotiable, Penny.” I slide the tin toward her, then do the same with a plate. “I need to be able to rely on you if we’re taking you back to Naxos. That means a full stomach and maybe some caffeine, too.”
She glances at Hunter and Torian, who have already returned to a conversation filled with strategy and weapons tactics.
“Don’t worry about them.” I tap the side of the tin. “Keep your eyes on the prize.”
Her gaze softens, the tension slightly leaving her frame. “Thank you.”
The appreciation is barely audible. It sinks into me though. Soul-deep.
“Don’t mention it.” I rifle through the drawers as she grabs something to eat, and pull out a pad and pen to place down beside her. “Once you’re done I’m going to need you to sketch a map of what we’re up against.”
“I can do that.” She holds a hand over her mouth as she chews. “I can also mark where the safes are and their pin codes.”
“Perfect.”
She keeps eating, leaving that delicate hand covering her lips. “But in return I need you to do one more thing for me.”
And there it is—the foreboding, the ten steps back to my slight forward momentum. I can already tell I won’t like her request. I’ll hate it and want to comply in equal measure. “And what’s that, shorty?”