Total pages in book: 217
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
“You think?”
“I don’t know what month it is.”
“It’s May,” Beau says, glancing at me, wondering, no doubt, how long Pearl has been away from home.
“Then I’m twenty-one,” she says, almost sadly. “In April. The fifth.”
Twenty-one. Such an important birthday. I remember mine. I was on a yacht in the Adriatic Sea. Sounds luxurious. Lavish. Dreamy. It wasn’t. I was fucked and beaten black and blue every day for weeks by a corrupt diplomat until I’d gotten Nox the information he needed. And then I was beaten black and blue again because it took me longer than he’d liked.
I lose my breath for a moment and fight to get it back, looking around the TV room if only to remind me of where I am. “Clothes,” I choke out, getting up to check on the unconscious girl, her pulse, her chest, before hurrying toward the door, just as Doc pushes his way through.
“Next,” he says with a hint of humor, scanning the crowd of potential patients.
“How’s Brad?” I ask.
“He’ll be fine.” He’s quite dismissive, but I can’t blame him. He’s run off his feet today.
“You should start with the unconscious one,” I say like an idiot, making Beau roll her eyes.
“They all need checkups.” Beau takes over, looking back at Pearl. “This is Doc.” She smiles as she comes over and rubs the old man on the shoulder. “He’s the best.” Then she moves into Doc’s ear. “They’re nervous.”
“Understandable,” he says, looking solemnly at the girls. “I’ll start with the unconscious one”—he looks over his spectacles to me, and I feel myself turning a fetching shade of embarrassed—“before I check the others over. I think perhaps I should like you girls to assist. As Beau said, they’ll be nervous and, well, I’m a man, if a little decrepit.”
“I’ll send Goldie in,” Beau assures him. “We need to raid Rose’s closet.” Linking arms with me, she walks us on. “The unconscious one?” she whispers in disbelief.
I can only shake my head at myself.
“Oh, Beau,” Doc calls.
“Will you get Goldie?” She unhooks her arm and goes to Doc, not giving me a chance to answer.
I frown my way to the kitchen and tell rather than ask Goldie to go to the TV room, and she does without question. By the time I’m back at the stairs, Beau’s back on my arm. “Okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, fine, I was taking Brad’s pulse in the car. Doc needed the numbers.”
“Oh,” I murmur. Something else she’s useful for.
“Did you notice the small hole in the corner of Pearl’s lip?” she asks.
“Old piercing,” I say. “They would have removed it.” I flinch. “To make her—” Fuck, I can’t believe I’m saying this. “More universal.” No piercings, no tattoos, no deformities.
“Are you okay with this?” Beau asks, pushing her way into our room.
I nod, taking a deep breath, having a stern word with myself. Those girls have been rescued before they’ve endured the same unimaginable level of hell that I did. Rescued before they were sold. That’s a blessing, although none of them could possibly think that in this moment. And suddenly, I feel energized. Full of purpose. They can have a life.
“I want everything you haven’t worn in six months,” Beau declares.
“Can’t we say everything I won’t wear for the next six months, because that’ll be easier?”
She laughs and swings open the doors of my closet. And exhales her exasperation.
Twenty minutes later, Beau has arms full of clothes that don’t fit me, and I can’t even be miserable about it. “We should bring them up to change,” she says, kicking material away at her feet, removing the tripping hazard as she walks to the bed and dumps the clothes there. “Maybe shower.”
I nod.
“Which rooms?”
“Umm . . .” This is a twenty-bedroom mansion, and I can’t be sure there are any spare rooms.
“Rose?”
“Wait,” I say, tapping the side of my head, mentally figuring out who’s in what room and which room is free, if at all there is one. “There’s one down the hall, but Brad’s in there. Danny’s father’s room,” I say quietly. “It’s the only other one I know is definitely vacant.” And it’s totally out of the question. Damn it, if Esther was here, she’d know immediately.
Beau sighs. “You check on Brad. There must be another somewhere. I’ll go investigate.” We leave together and while Beau starts working her way up and down the corridor, I go to Brad, knocking before entering. The bag of blood is what I see first, half empty, and then Fury sitting guard by the bed.
“I’m awake,” Brad grunts, opening one eye. “Where’s Danny and James?”
“They’re not back yet.”
He shifts on the bed, hissing, before he settles exactly where he was. “Why?”
“I don’t know.” And suddenly I’m worried. I look at Fury, who shrugs, looking at Brad, as if he might answer his own question. “Why aren’t they back yet?” I ask.