Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Ambrielle was intelligent and quick on the uptake. “She sold you to that horrible man? She sold you? For money?”
“Not only did she sell me, she told me I deserved whatever happened to me for ruining her life the way I had. Sorbacov must have insisted my father be present as well in the exchange, because he was there. They talked and laughed while Sorbacov patted me and then handed my mother this big envelope. She laughed, but she didn’t once look at me. I was feeling so confused and angry. I knew what she was doing, and I didn’t understand when I had always tried to be so good for her. Then the security men took out their guns and shot them. Sorbacov stood there for a few minutes, kind of patting me before taking out a gold pocket watch. He put me in a car and took me to that school.”
“I don’t understand how you managed to turn out sane, Master.”
“I was lucky. I met Czar. He gave me a code to live by. He made me believe I could be a human being. I wouldn’t have survived without him. None of us would have.” He knew that was the truth, and he wanted her to know it was. She had to understand how important Czar was to him, to all of them. “So many of the children who came to the school during the years I was there died. We banded together and survived because Czar taught us how. We survived not just the physical assaults but the mental ones as well. Emotionally . . .” He gave a little shrug. “We stay together because that’s how we did it. We wove ourselves together and we became strong enough to live. Even now, we’re not that good away from one another.”
He’d told her, briefly, one of the things he worried most about. Those who’d found partners had told the others that the club was something the women had a difficult time accepting. They all realized why when Seychelle, Savage’s woman, had joined him. The club needed her to help them in various situations, but they didn’t share information with her, and she resented it. Not only did she resent it, it interfered with her relationship with Savage and nearly tore them apart. Master wasn’t going to let that happen with Ambrielle.
Ambrie turned back over, pressing against his body, reassuring him she was rejecting the things he’d told her.
“I had no idea you’d gone through so much, Master, or that the others in your club had. I felt bad for Reese and Tyra, but at the same time, I continually had to push away the images of my parents being murdered right in front of me. I don’t know if it’s because it happened so recently, but I struggled to have compassion for him and the way he handled things, just as you struggled. I was impressed with Ink, mainly because he was very firm, but he clearly said what Reese needed to hear.”
“We don’t have those addictions that Reese has,” Master said. “We don’t come from that place, and we can’t understand what he’s going through any more than he can understand us. We don’t understand his choices. We see a clear path one way. He sees another that makes no sense to us. Ink can explain it better than I can.”
Ambrie rubbed her face on the pillow. “I’m grateful I found you, no matter how I did it, and that you wanted me, even in my hysterical and obviously needy condition. Tell me what to do when the police question me. Tell me the story and I’ll make sure I have it down.”
Master tightened his arm around her. He was certain he’d gotten the better of the deal between them, but he didn’t say so. They’d both made the commitment to go full in, all the way. He chose to believe that she was going to keep her word. He had to believe that if he was going to, for the first and only time, trust someone outside of Torpedo Ink.
NINE
“Master, oh my God, who is she? She has the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard.” Ambrie sat in the back of the mostly empty bar staring in awe up at the stage, where a woman sat on a bar stool, mic in hand, singing, facing a man with a mic.
The woman with honey-colored hair and vivid blue eyes stared into the eyes of the man. He had a shaved head and tattoos everywhere she could see skin. He began to sing back to her.
“He’s got a beautiful voice as well. Not like she does though. Who are they?”
“That’s Seychelle Dubois and Savage. She’s his fiancée, and she sings with our band. Sometimes he sings with her when they’re alone, but he never sings in public. I think he’d rather we pull out his fingernails one by one.”