Ari announced, still clutching “Juli-Gana” by the arm, twisting his hold violently. “Just say it.” He glanced between Nikos and his own brother Ajax, bobbing his head. Waiting for the confirmation of what he already knew but needed to hear from their lips. Both men sat at the glass-topped kitchen table, eyeing the female he held manacled in his grasp as if she were a specimen of disease. Or an alien that had suddenly flown into the room, complete with green skin and bug eyes. “Come on, brothers. Tell me.” Nikos pointed at her. “Who is that?” he asked with slow, meaningful precision. “And what is she doing here?” Ajax tagged on impatiently. Ari waved a hand between them. “Stop trying to sound reasonable, and tell me what I already suspect.” Ajax kept his eyes on the female. “Tell you what, you malaka?” “That I’m still under the influence of my concussion.” Nikos stepped forward, black gaze moving up and down Juliana’s form. “She’s not dressed right.”
