Slaves of Love
He raised an eyebrow. “What’ll ye give me for it?”
She ran her hands over her breasts. “I could show you these.”
He stepped closer, chewing a toothpick.
“I can see lots of those for free when the graebers come bribin’ ye with food.”
One of the other women whispered in Shena’s ear. “Part of the payoff to the local police for the slavers to operate here is that they let them come and offer food in exchange for favors from the women.” She pointed to places in the fence with holes large enough for things to be passed in and out.
Shena’s new friend opened the buttons of her top, slowly, then parted the fabric enough to show a little cleavage. The man’s gaze locked on her fleshy curves.
“So you don’t want to see them?”
“As I said, I’ll see ’em later for free.”
“Maybe. But you won’t get to touch them.” The woman made her voice sultry and low.
His gaze remained riveted on her hand as she slid it inside and stroked herself.
“It’s just a little newspaper,” she continued in that silky tone. “You can buy yourself another.”
“Come over here,” he said as he moved to one of the openings in the fence.
She stepped close, but not too close. “Do we have a deal?”
“I don’t know. Let me see what I’ll get.”
The woman pulled the fabric further apart, just short of revealing her nipples.
One of the other women who had overheard Shena’s desire to see the paper leaned close to him and said in a muffled whisper that Shena could just barely hear, “She only wants the fashion section. Give her a page at a time.”
He smiled, then said, “Show me all of ’em, and I’ll give you the first page.”
The dark-haired woman pulled open her top, and his jaw dropped. She had the largest breasts Shena had ever seen. He shoved the first page through the bars. The woman who’d whispered grabbed the page and carried it over to Shena.
“Now come over here so I can touch them,” he demanded.
The brunette buttoned up her top and turned away.
“Hey, I thought you wanted this?” He waved the paper, clutched tightly in his hand.
He grabbed one of the women through the bars and dragged her against the fence, but one of the guards pushed him away. The women laughed, which made the guy angrier, but the guards prodded him on his way.
Shena pulled the page open and began to read the article, which revealed that her father had gone after the Herringtons and killed one of them. Her heart lurched as she read the words, until she saw the first name.
Will. Not Keern.
She relaxed, relieved, yet knowing Keern must be suffering the loss of his brother. The words blurred as she read how her father had killed him and the eldest remaining brother, Keern, had killed her father.
Her father was dead, and she felt nothing for him. Only a coldness deep inside.
The article went on to say Keern blamed the daughter for his brother’s death because she’d lied about an encounter between them, after which, according to the reporter, she’d claimed Keern had raped her.
She remembered his tender touch and the way he’d brought her exquisite pleasure. He must feel mortally wounded believing she would call such a thing rape.
The words at the bottom of the page indicated that the article continued on a later page, which Shena did not have. The paper dropped from her hands.
A fist tighte