Her Name Is Knight(Nena Knight #1)(33)

Paul says, “Do not speak unless you are told. Be demure. You’re not sluts, for God’s sake.”

Is he daft? His men have made us so ten times over.

“Smile and look like you want to be here, because if I do not fetch a price for you, if you are not sponsored—”

Sponsored.

“—you will not return to the Compound.”

Paul is strictly business, smoothing his suit beneath the orange glow of the lit torches lining the premises. His words feel directed toward me, since I am the one who got a man of his killed.

He might still believe I am a valuable prize for my lineage, but I am no more than any of these girls. They are, in fact, better than me, because they hold out hope all will turn out well. However, all hopes died weeks ago back in our village. And dead is what these girls and I will be if we do not fetch a price for Paul. With the thought looming in my mind, I follow the others along the stone path toward the brightly lit house filled with our future masters.

It is hard to maneuver across the stones in the heels, but I manage. No one speaks, not even Paul, as we follow him up the steps and into the auction house. The air-conditioning is refreshing. I am immediately cold as the sheen of sweat on my skin freezes.

The guards guide us to various locations within the house, our elbows firmly within their grasps. There are curious glances all around, as buyers appraise the stock. I avert my eyes, not wanting to make contact. My life is no longer my own. The eyes roving my body make me feel like the algae slime that floats in stagnant water.

Thoughts of algae cause me to stumble, and my guard grabs me sharply, annoyed that he has stumbled too. His mouth sets in a firm line. He wants to hit me. I can tell from the way he fists his free hand, but he cannot touch the merchandise. So instead, he glowers at me. It is a threat from him to me.

Don’t. Fuck. Up. Again.





25


AFTER


Sasha’s words sent lightning bolts through Nena, and her response came before any of them could adequately register the insult, much less think of a comeback.

“What did you just call her?”

The blonde shifted nervously from one foot to the other. She gave Nena a guarded look. “What are you talking about?”

Nena’s eyes narrowed. She spoke slowly enough to make the rest of them fidget uncomfortably, even Georgia, whose lips twisted in concern. “Do you know what Curious George is?”

Georgia, Kit, and the other two girls looked on, watching this game of tennis with trepidation. Georgia had seen Nena in action, and Nena couldn’t imagine what was running through her mind. She probably thought Nena was going to snap the girl’s neck like she had the big thug’s.

“A cartoon?” Sasha drawled questioningly. She gave Nena the teenage are you stupid? look, not noticing how her friends backed away a few steps, abandoning her to her fate.

Nena cocked her head, looking even more menacing than she had before. Sasha took a reflexive step back, and her wide baby blues were what reminded Nena with whom she was dealing. No, she wasn’t going to kill the girl for being stupid or a racist. She was going to school her.

“You call her that, or anything else improper, again, you’ll deal with me. You understand?”

Sasha’s face flushed a deep crimson, which only made her very blonde hair look blonder. “What did I say?”

“Let your mates explain it to you. They seem to understand the negative association a Black girl with the type of animal your cartoon, and your racist remark, refers to.”

Sasha’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. She gawked, swallowed hard, voice now at a higher octave. “Racist! I’m not . . . I’m not . . . my best friend is Chinese!”

“Korean,” Kit and Georgia corrected in unison. Georgia’s hand flew to her mouth, covering it.

Kit gritted her teeth. How many times did the girl have to remind Sasha where she was from? Nena wondered.

“I didn’t . . . ,” Sasha sputtered, blinking rapidly. “I meant—”

“Yes, we know what you meant. You won’t mean it again, now will you?” Nena swept her gaze casually over the other girls. None of them moved, and Sasha continued blinking, her mouth opening and closing with nothing coming out, much to Nena’s satisfaction.

“Well, off with you, ladies,” she urged when no one seemed to be taking their leave. “Driver’s waiting and all.”

Kit and the other two mumbled goodbyes and were full of ma’ams as they tugged a still-stunned Sasha away toward her ride. However, a few yards away, Sasha regained her ability to speak.

“Did you hear how that weirdo lady talked to me?” she asked in a shrill voice. “That bitch!”

Kit snatched her elbow, ushering Sasha away before she stepped in any more shit than she already had.

Georgia watched Nena watching the girls’ retreating figures. Georgia gave a resigned sigh. “I’m sorry about that. Sasha’s—”

“A privileged, rude, racist Barbie doll?” Nena said helpfully.

“I was going to say ‘different,’” Georgia finished.

“Which would be wholly inaccurate. Don’t make excuses for the girl.” Nena gave her full attention to Georgia’s troubled expression. “Why does your schoolmate dislike you so much?”

Georgia blinked, her eyes taking on a shine Nena didn’t care for. She worried the girl would cry, and she wasn’t equipped to handle chattering teens, much less crying ones.