12
Zeke
The day dragged, but it’s finally time for me to go home. It’s eight o’clock in the evening, and I know Julian has a few guests coming over to occupy the rest of his night, which means I can get the hell out of here. I’m tired of talking to Julian about contracts, men who I can trust to transport the women, and the plan for selling them. I’m tired of pretending I find Julian’s way of making money admirable. Although, I never verbally agreed with him. I never said anything to the contrary—lie by omission.
Why I thought I owed Julian a debt though is ridiculous. This man is a coward and a greedy criminal. He knew I could help him, so he let his doctors treat me. He didn’t save me—not like Siren did.
I should have left the island as soon as I was strong enough to go. I could be back with Enzo, Kai, and Langston by now. Or at the very least in a cabin hiding out until I healed enough to not be a burden on my friends. I shouldn’t have stayed.
But I wouldn’t have seen Siren again. She would have been sold to a different man, one who would have already raped and beaten her. She’d probably already be dead.
My heart rages just thinking about what would have happened to Siren if I hadn’t had been there that night, if I hadn’t saved her.
I shake my head. I haven’t saved her yet. She’s not safe until she’s off the island. There is something I’m missing between her and Julian. Some dark past I’m not aware of. But I’m going to find out, and Siren is going to be the one to tell me.
“Good work today, Zeke,” Julian says as he takes a puff of his cigar.
I nod.
“Want to stay for a drink? I heard you drank at Oscar’s, so it seems like your self-imposed sobriety has ended.”
I nod. “I figured my body had done enough healing; it’s time to get back to the real world. But I’ll take a rain check on the drink.”
Julian smiles, evilly. “Of course. You have more important things to get back to. I was surprised to see you up so early this morning at work; I assumed you had a long night breaking that one in.”
My insides curl as he speaks about Siren like she’s a horse needing domesticating instead of a woman. I don’t give him confirmation of what I’m feeling inside.
“Need anything else before I go?” I ask instead, trying to change the subject.
Julian takes a long puff on his cigar as he rests his other hand across the back of his expensive red couch.
“No, but I plan on cashing in that rain check on Friday night.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“I’m having my closest friends over then. They will be our best bets at securing buyers for the women.”
I cringe on the inside. I’m going to actually do this—sell women to monsters. I don’t have a choice if I want to protect my friends—if I want to protect Siren. I need to do the job, earn Julian’s trust, and then get the fuck out of here.
“I’ll be here then.”
“Good, and bring your pet.”
“Pet?” I ask automatically, not understanding what Julian is talking about, until I remember the previous night. He called Siren a pet.
“Yes, that beautiful whore you spent so much money on. Someday you’ll have to tell me how you earned so much money to waste on a creature like her. But I can understand the intrigue. I understand wanting to harness that kind of power.”
“I don’t think she’ll be up for meeting anyone so soon. Not after what I have planned for her.”
Julian grins. “Just make sure she’s still breathing. It doesn’t matter if you’ve tamed her yet. Or if she’s broken and bleeding. The men will be drawn to her no matter what. They will see the high-quality women we have. They will spend more money and want more of our inventory.”
I try to think quickly to keep Siren at home instead of in Julian’s clutches, but it’s not my strong suit. I’m a methodical, careful thinker. Give me a month to make a plan, and it will run perfectly. I can protect others quickly with my body, but not my wit.
So I just nod and leave. I won’t let Siren anywhere near Julian or his men. But I have a couple of days to figure out a plan.
I drive the truck home and park it in front of the house. It’s time to see if Siren has escaped or not.
She’s attracted to me. Her eyes speak volumes. She wants me. And she’s terrified of Julian. She thinks I will protect her against him. She’s right. But she doesn’t get to know that.
She didn’t run.
I open the front door and immediately realize I’m wrong. She fucking ran, but only after trashing my house.
Furniture is kicked over, papers are scattered everywhere, and dishes are shattered all over the floor. My eyes fume as I take in all the damage she did.
I understand she doesn’t want to be a hostage, but this is unacceptable. I haven’t been anything but hospitable toward her. I fed her last night. I gave her a comfy bed to sleep in. I’ve protected her all day from Julian. And this is how she repays me—by breaking everything in my house and then leaving.
I walk over to the liquor cabinet, hoping she didn’t shatter my whiskey because I’m in desperate need of a drink. That fucking pain in my side of a woman—she spilled every drop and then shattered the bottle for good measure.
Other than last night, I’ve haven’t had a drink in months. And now, when I desperately need it, she took my relief from me.
I decide to go shower and wash the anger away before I decide to search for her or not. But a creak stops me.
I look down the hallway to my right, the opposite direction of the bedrooms. And I can sense her presence without seeing or hearing her.
She’s here.
She didn’t run.
I take my time walking down the hallway. No one can make me rush unless I want to. And I don’t fucking want to rush into that room. Because I’ll break my promise not to hurt her if I do.
I take a deep breath before turning the corner to the sitting room. It’s my favorite room in the house, so it doesn’t surprise me Siren was drawn to it. But if she destroyed this room too, I’m going to throw her ass out, and she can figure out how to deal with Julian on her own.
The room is perfect, untouched. However, instead of being empty and mine, as usual, Siren has taken over the room as her’s.
I stand in the doorway and growl, making my feelings known without having to speak.
Her eyes drift up from the book in her lap and the glass of red wine in her left hand.
“You going to speak, or are you just going to stand there?” she asks, with a knowing smirk on her lips. I’m starting to believe her now when she told me she wasn’t an angel.
“I’m not the one who needs to speak. You do,” I say, still standing in the doorway. If I enter the room, I’ll lose my temper, and I have no idea what I’m capable of doing to her. I’ve never been this pissed off with a woman before. She ignites feelings I didn’t even know I could have.
She raises an eyebrow and then casually takes a sip of her wine. “I don’t think so. I think you have things you need to say first.”
I lose it.
I’m to her in one giant step. I shove the book out of her hand and down the glass of wine, needing alcohol in my system to settle my nerves as I press her deeper into the chair.