Page 56 of Searching for Hope

“My friend here,” she snaps, “is my business partner. If you’re saying you don’t trust him, you’re saying you don’t trust me.” She cups his cheek this time, pulling his face close to her as she speaks. “Don’t you trust me, Michael?”

Her lips are dangerously close to his. I clench my fists, needing a release for the rage that surges. Michael’s eyes flick from her mouth to her gaze. He wets his lips and swallows. Then he looks over at me. I glare at him and shake my head threateningly. I don’t care who he is. I don’t care who his father is. He is not to touch Berkley. She is mine. Even if we haven’t quite sorted all the aspects of the arrangement.

He smirks and turns his head to kiss the palm of her hand. “Of course I trust you, Everly, but my father is a little hesitant around new people. Surely you can understand that considering what happened to your father. You can’t be too careful with who you trust.”

Berkley drops her hand. “My father was taken down by a woman he stole. I’d hardly account it to mislaid trust.”

Michael smiles. “And also by your half-brother, the one who worked for your father, if I’m not wrong. Didn’t he help the girl escape? Didn’t you?”

Berkley hardens her glare. “Is there something you’d like to ask me, Michael? Are you questioning my loyalty?”

She crosses her arms, looking so defiant, so fearless. It’s a striking pose, the storm reflected both in the colors she wears and the mood of her expression. Her eyes flash with icy fire.

“That man gave me everything. When he was taken, my life was ripped away along with him. I found out he was my father on the very same day he was taken from me, did you know that? He was nothing but kind to me. He looked after his own and that’s all you can ask of any man. I’m proud to call that man my father and I resent the fact that you’ve called my integrity into question.”

She’s aflame with such passion even I begin to believe her.

Michael’s father steps into our line of vision. “Like father, like daughter.” He raises his glass. “I do believe you’ve got a firecracker on your hands there, Mr Priest.”

I look over at Berkley, her eyes shooting sparks, her chin lifted.

“That’s all her, sir. Nothing to do with me.”

He nods and then takes a sip of his drink. “Shall we begin?”

Berkley is like a queen floating among her subjects. I’m used to a certain amount of respect, my money earns it for me, but here, I am nobody. Her father’s reputation proceeds her and with the Gormans’ backing, people nod in deference as soon as she enters their circle. She carries herself in such a way that people stoop when she passes. She’s nothing like the girl who stood at the back of the auditions, hiding from the rest of the world.

As we’re taken around the room, it is impossible not to see the women who are presented for sale and imagine the life that’s hidden behind their eyes. Most of them stand with their gaze downwards, though there are a few who glare into space, hostile and aggressive. Guards stand to the side, keeping an eye on them much like a trainer would a wild animal. Berkley keeps her chin lifted and her gaze cold. But when we stop to inspect a girl who looks younger than Berkley, she grips my hand tightly, her nails digging into my flesh as a form of release for the torment going on inside her.

“How much?” She blurts out, talking over the top of Mr Gorman as he gives the description of the girl with as much humanity one might use when describing a used car.

I tighten my grip on her hand, warning her not to let emotion play any part in our transactions.

Mr Gorman turns to her slowly, cocking his head to one side. “You, of all people should know it’s rude to talk money in public, dear.”

“And you,” she steps forward, “should know it’s illegal to sell people as though they are property and yet here we are.” She lifts her brows as a hush spreads over the crowd around us.

Michael laughs, breaking the awkwardness. “Never one to sugar-coat things, were you, Ev?”

She takes a deep breath, feigning boredom. “I just don’t understand all the pretense around this. I am here for one reason and yet I’m made to stroll around a room making small talk like we’re at an art auction or something equally boring.” She flicks me a look over her shoulder. “We know exactly what we’re looking for and it’s not here. You,” she narrows her eyes at Mr Gorman, “just missed out on a sale. I suggest next time you don’t treat me like a child.”

And with that she stalks through the crowd, people parting for her as though she’s royalty. I dip my head to the men left in our circle.

“If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I do believe that’s my signal to go.”

chapter eighteen

BERKLEY

“Berkley, wait!” Jericho calls as I tear my way through the gardens. Lifting the skirts of my dress, I kick off my shoes, clasping them in my hands and run, jumping over the small hedges that force the path to wrap like a maze. But I don’t stop running. I can’t.

If I stop, I will think of the girl with the large eyes who looked at me so desperately, begging for rescue. I will think of the woman with the bruises around her neck or the one who stared defiantly into space as men groped her.

“Berkley!”

He catches up to me, trapping me in his arms. I’m shaking with rage. I fight to get away but he holds me close, his grip not loosening until he feels me go slack. It’s then that the tears catch up with me and my breath vanishes. I clutch onto him, dropping my shoes and trying to stop the swells of nausea threatening to overwhelm me. My flashes are violent and frantic.

Hands around my throat, squeezing the breath from of me.

---