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But even Callum has the grace to look away from Róisín. For as much as we live in this world of organized crime, it’s not the same one our father inhabited. And the way we run things has changed, too. As tough as our Da was on us boys, our Mama was equally soft, and we were brought up to respect both of the women in our lives. That extended to a genuine respect for all women, and the one thing Cal and I have never dabbled in is the skin trade. Not like the Rossis do.
The Viper’s prostitution racket is well known, as is his penchant for young, often underage women. Although I’d initially expected someone different, I shouldn’t have been surprised at his choice of bride, considering his proclivities.
“What exactly do you imagine Maricela can tell you?” Róisín asks, her voice so arctic I can already tell she has her doubts about our treatment of the captive she’s befriended.
“Dammit, Róisín, she’s a prisoner. We kidnapped her. This isn’t a feckin’ social visit.” Callum attempts to defend himself against the censure in our sister’s voice, but she’s having none of it.
“Like. What?” She punctuates each word with venom.
“Stuff about the Viper. His movements, his plans, the organization in general.”
Róisín’s humorless laughter is like bullets splintering into wood. “Why in the name of Janey Mack would you believe she has that kind of information? Anyone would think the poor woman agreed to marry Vito Rossi willingly.”
Now it’s our turn to scowl at Róisín’s familiarity with Maricela’s situation. Or the one she’s led us to believe, at least.
“What do you know?” I ask her, and Róisín flounces over to an overstuffed armchair in our private family room and flops down in it. “I know her father sold her to the Viper, whose only interest in marrying Maricela is the kudos the name Escobar evokes. I know he beat her and kept her a prisoner and didn’t allow her to have any external contact - not even with his own family.” Her voice wobbles. “And I suspect there’s more she’s never spoken of. Why the hell do you think she’s never begged you to send her back there? She might want to escape, but only because she wants her freedom. Not because she has any love for that place or the people there. Sucks to know you’re treating the woman you’ve kidnapped better than the people who you stole her from.”
Callum’s eyebrows beetle together as he stares at Róisín. “How the hell do you know all this?” he asks, shock clear in his tone as our sister repeats most of what we’ve only just discovered.
“Because we’ve talked, of course, you Neanderthal. Not all information needs to be tortured out of someone, you know.”
I don’t know what Callum’s thoughts are right now, but he stalks out of the room without another word, and I’m not far behind him.
But first, I kiss Róisín on the forehead to reassure her. “I’ll take care of Maricela.”
It’s a promise. I’m going to fetch her out of that goddamned cell right now. To hell with whatever Callum thinks.
When I arrive below ground, I see two of the guards sending hungry glances toward the woman who’s been warming my bed, and my blood starts to boil. I have to fight to keep my expression neutral.
“You two are relieved from duty. I’ll take care of things from here.” They smirk at me, and I have no doubt what their dirty feckin’ thoughts are. I don’t care as long as they’re no longer objectifying my girl.
No, our captive, I correct myself, although that label grates at my nerves.
I might not like it, but it doesn’t make it any less true.
I shut off the awful goddamn noise as soon as they’re gone and watch as Maricela flinches from the mere silence.
Fuck.
There are other things down here than just the cells, including all manner of storage. I hurry into an adjoining area and grab a soft, clean blanket out of a cupboard and take it with me when I unlock the steel bars that form the door of the cell Maricela’s in.
Her head lolls, and I know the bastards have been forcing her to stay awake. Fuck. I should have stepped in sooner, regardless of Callum’s ire. None of this ever sat well with me.
Finding the keys for the cuffs around her wrists, I remove them, cursing at the damage to her soft skin. I make quick work of the rest of the bindings, securing her to the seat, then wrap her in the blanket before scooping her into my arms.
She lets out a soft whimper, and the sound stabs me right in the chest. She’s coming back to my room. Callum might not like it, but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. And what our men don’t know won’t hurt them… or, more importantly, me.
This is a delicate situation, but I can’t stand by any longer. It already feels like too long.
Chapter Thirty
MARICELA
My head feels light and dizzy. I feel like I’m floating, but I’ve no idea if that’s good or bad. I can’t seem to process my thoughts and my entire body aches.
Despite all that, for the first time in what seems like forever, I feel safe and anchored.
I drift at the very edge of unconsciousness, but before the darkness claims me, I find myself lowered into a bathtub.
