Page 30 of Ash Storm

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Ash

After his shower, Ash went back out to the courtyard. He sprawled on one of the heavy stone benches, pretending to look at the other fighters.

In reality, he was more interested in the guards walking around.

He was pretty sure all their clothes had been thoroughly searched while they were in the shower, but he wasn’t worried. He hadn’t been carrying anything of interest, just his fake passport and a few wrinkled notes.

A flurry of white caught his attention—a group of women being led single-file through one side of the courtyard, flanked by four guards.

Sixteen women.

His heart skipped a beat as he recognized Reka and Chloe near the back. Like the others, they were dressed in vaporous gowns with a plunging V-shaped neckline and long, semi-translucent skirts that opened up as they walked.

They all looked down at their feet, as if they’d been instructed not to raise their eyes.

“I wouldn’t stare at them like that, if I were you,” his new Turkish friend said. Ash hadn’t even seen him approach. Either he was losing his touch, or the fighter was stealthier than Ash had given him credit for.

“Why?” Ash asked, grinning. “I like women. I enjoy looking at them.”

“You’re looking at another’s man's property.”

“Property?” Ash asked, feigning ignorance.

“They belong to our host, Ahmet Afsan.”

“Shit.” Ash huffed. He struggled to look impressed rather than disgusted. “He owns them?”

“Let me tell you a secret. Impress our host tomorrow, and you might get to spend a few hours with one of them. Of course, whether you’re in any shape to do anything with her remains to be seen.” He smiled, showing lots of teeth. “Depends if you’ve had to fight me already.”

Ash ignored the jab. “You seem to know a lot about this place.”

The man’s smile died a little. “I fought last year. Got slammed hard on the head in my second fight. By the time I woke up, I was outside the gates with one of those fucking little coins in my pocket.”

“So you’re trying again. I like that. I’m also a get-up-and-try-again kind of guy,” Ash said, offering the man his hand. “Andrea Romano.”

“Gezi,” the man said, wrapping his enormous hand around Ash’s palm.

Ash nodded. He had no idea if that was a first or last name, but he wasn’t here to make friends.

He looked back at Reka and Chloe. They were both on their feet and walking, so that was good. When it came to it, he was going to need them to be able to run.

But he didn’t miss the way the blond woman’s shoulders slumped forward. He’d seen that before. She was close to her breaking point. Behind her, Reka’s shoulders and back were straight. She looked strong, for someone who’d been through what she had in the last few days, though her skin, which had shone like warm bronze in the pictures he’d seen of her, was now a dull shade.

“Do you know what they’re doing here?”

“You ask a lot of questions, Romano. Those women are no different from us. They’re part of the entertainment.”

“Some of them are looking rather peaked, actually. I’m not sure they’d last a round with the Roman Stallion, if you see what I mean,” Ash drawled. “But there’s a few I wouldn’t mind tasting.”

“Well, then, make sure you fight hard tomorrow, my friend,” Gezi said, clapping Ash hard on the back.

Ash took a last look at Reka before the line of women disappeared from view. It was torture to sit here and let her go.

You have no idea how hard I’m going to fight.