Page 185 of Spoils of war
I had to get the message to the boys, theyhadto be there.
They had to win.
I clutched the tray tighter, the glasses rattling faintly as I moved between the furniture.One night. I just had to survive one more night. I kept my head down and my steps careful and I weaved through the labyrinth of velvet and smoke and men, until I saw him.
Will.
He sat on a brown leather sofa near the center of the room, half-shadowed by heavy crimson drapery. A glass of whiskey dangled from his fingers, the light catching on the deep amber swirl. He lounged with his boots crossed, posture loose and careless, like he belonged there. When his eyes lifted and met mine, I nearly dropped the tray. My legs kept moving only because I forced them to, but before I reached him, I sawher.
A woman whose body curved into his, slowly and deliberate, every movement practiced. She straddled him like a horse, her smooth thighs sliding over his. Her lips brushed his jaw as she whispered something I couldn’t hear.
And Will smiled. A soft, detached smile.
It cut deeper than any blade.
I didn’t see the edge of the rug, but my foot caught and the tray slipped from my fingers. Glass shattered across the floor, a bright, violent sound that sliced through the smothering air. A man barked something sharp and shoved a rag and broom into my hands. I dropped to my knees, heart hammering, gathering up the shards asfast as I could. The glass bit into my finger, but I didn’t feel it. All I could feel were Will’s eyes on me, burning from across the room.
He couldn’t save me. Not yet.
When the floor was cleared and the last shard scraped away, I rose to my feet. I had to get closer, I had to find a way.
Will was laughing, and I stumbled—deliberate that time—catching the edge of the sofa and crashing forward. I landed in his lap in a clumsy sprawl, and the men around us roared.
“Looks like this one’s already sweet on you,” one of them cackled.
Will didn’t react, he caught me on instinct, wrapping his arms around my waist. His eyes met mine. I leaned in, close enough that only he could hear.
“I’m being auctioned tomorrow,” I whispered, breathless. “You have to be there. You have to win.”
His lips parted like he might say something, but I was already being yanked away. A hand clamped down on my arm, dragging me backward. Past smoke and velvet and glittering eyes, and through the heavy curtain.
And then it came. The back of his hand cracked across my face, the blow so hard it snapped my head sideways. Pain burst across my cheekbone, hot and blinding as the jolt rattled down my spine, stealing the breath from my lungs.
I didn’t make a sound. Not a gasp. Not a whimper. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. But, for a moment, everything blurred and I had to hold the monster inside me back. I could feel it clawing at my skin, begging to be let out, to get to tear the man who hit me to shreds.
“Drop a tray again,” he said with spite, “and I’ll break those pretty little legs.”
His fingers dug into my jaw, forcing my head up. I tasted blood, but swallowed it.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m dizzy.”
“Dizzy, huh?” His voice dipped, mocking me. “I’ll show you dizzy.”
His fist clenched, knuckles popping as he raised it toward my face. I wondered how much pain I’d be able to take before I lost control and he’d be nothing but a bloody pulp on the floor.
“It’s the mist,” a woman’s voice cut in, saving me.
I blinked, my vision swimming, and saw her step out from the shadows. The same woman Aran and I had seen at the door. Her face was all angles and quiet defiance, the kind of face carved by years of surviving men like him. Faded scars mapped her jaw and nose.
“Some girls take to it better than others,” she said, tone smooth as glass. “Let me take her. Let her rest it off.”
His rage whipped toward her, eyes narrowing. “Did I ask for your opinion?” he snapped, spit flying. “Keep your mouth shut.”
She didn’t flinch. “I beg your pardon,” she said, still calm. “Thought you might want her in one piece for tomorrow.”
He stared her down, then shoved me into the wall.
“Fine. Take her,” he snapped. “Useless little bitch.”
