Page 138 of Deadfall

“It didn’t help me,” I said dryly.

“Yeah, but now you’re helping other people. You’re doing a good thing, G—I know saving other girls and women won’t bring our little sis back, but it sure doesn’t hurt to honor her legacy like that. Just don’t go getting yourself killed, alright? I’ll fucking drag you back from hell and be a very pissed off big sister. Trust me, the devil doesn’t want to see me coming.”

“Psh, please, I’m not going to hell, I’m going to be stuck here haunting your ass until you join me.”

She laughed. “Deal. Alright, I have to go. You good?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for answering.”

“Always, baby bro. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

I hung up with my sister and felt immediately centered once more.

“Gabriel!” I frowned, Seven rarely used my full first name. I heard the creak of his footsteps upstairs and stepped out of the room as he appeared on the landing.

“You need to see this.”

I really doubted I needed to see any of it. But, Seven was the best tracker I’d ever met. I always sent him in to sweep the houses first because he almost always found information or clues the others and I wouldn’t have.

I reached the top of the stairs and followed on his heels into a large bedroom where the girls must have slept. Beds lined the walls—with chains attached to them. My jaw clenched for the millionth time. I don’t know why I was so emotional about this particular job—something about this house creeped me the fuck out. And, unlike most jobs, the bodies we’d found in this house had been small—too small. There was a deep corruption of innocence here that had me feeling dirty and devastated. Seven was crouched near a bed he’d pulled away from the wall. He pointed to something I couldn’t see yet.

“Remember Knight? From the Paris job a few months ago?”

“Of course I remember Knight,” I scoffed. “No one forgets someone like Trent Knight. What has that got to do with this?”

“Remember that friend of his? Theron North—the PMC guy?”

I moved the bed further from the wall and looked down. There on the wood in red crayon was the name Emersyn North. It looked like it had been drawn over many, many times.

Chills raced across my skin. What were the odds?

“I mean, that’s kind of freaky right?” Seven said. “North isn’t that common of a last name.”

He was right. I didn’t know North, and I’d just met Knight a few months ago, but if there was even a slim chance this was North’s daughter, we were going to take it—we’d united families on less. I wracked my brain to try and remember all of what Knight had mentioned about North. It wasn’t much. Knight had just said that they were super close and had gone through a lot of shit together.

“Did Knight mention North had a family?”

Seven picked up a few papers from the ground and sifted through them. “He alluded to some sort of tragedy happening, but that man wouldn’t tell a story that wasn’t his to tell, even with the number of beers we consumed that night,” he said, dryly.

Seven frowned and handed me one of the papers. “I think you should call Knight.”

I took the crayon drawing and Seven tapped the initials in the corner. EN. It was all too much of a coincidence. I pulled out my phone and dialed Knight.

“Hey bud! Long time no talk!” Knight said.

“Hey man, yeah it’s been a minute. Listen, I found something on one of our raids—”

“You still mowing down trafficking rings?”

“Yeah, and this one we just hit in Paris—I need you to get me into contact with Theron North.”

Silence. Knight was never silent.

“You there?”

Knight’s jovial manner was gone. “What did you find?”