Page 30 of Kyle

Declan cut his eyes at Kyle before he answered. “She stays with us.”

“Goddamn, I hope you know what you’re doing. We have fifteen women in Cambodia who are ready for transport. It won’t be pretty. And if Anaya’s with you there will be no way to shield her from it.”

“I can handle it,” I said, praying my voice was stronger than I felt.

I was still recovering from the shock of agreeing to go, when I really wanted to stay in Timor-Leste and help Camilla and Donny. But I didn’t like being talked about like I was some weak woman who couldn’t take care of herself. Not to mention, the Hot Lips dig had crawled under my skin.

“Anaya,” Zane sighed. “I’ve read—”

“I’m sure you have. Everyone seems to have read something about me. However, you must’ve skipped over the part where I pulled myself out of that life and I did that all by myself. I’m not thirteen locked away in some basement. I survived that and have moved on. I’ve dedicated my life to helping people. Not only did I live through it, but I’ve seen it countless times since then. I don’t need to be shielded from anything.”

“I hope you’re prepared, it’s gonna be ugly.”

“It always is,” I returned.

Chapter 8

Anaya was nervous. It was the wobble in her voice that gave her away.

I doubted Zane missed it, he didn’t miss much.

Thankfully Declan changed the subject and asked, “Is Harry still in Connecticut?”

“Yes. It seems Harry Landry and Ruiz are in some sort of negotiations. But our intel says Ruiz wants out.”

I kept my eyes on Anaya as she worried her bottom lip in concentration. Which also served as a reminder to have a chat with Zane in private about his Hot Lips Houlihan comment.

“What’s wrong, Anaya?” I asked.

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you staring off into space again?”

“I’m trying to remember how I know that name.”

“What name?” Zane asked.

“Harry Landry.” Her eyes flashed and she nodded. “I know someone by that name but it can’t be the same man. Just a coincidence they have the same name.”

“How do you know the man?” Zane questioned.

“The Harry I know made a sizable donation to a project I worked on when I was with the NCMEC.”

“I don’t remember Landry making any donations to Missing and Exploited Children,” Declan said. “We checked all of his personal donations.”

“Technically, the donation came from his company, but Mr. Landry attended the gala for the donors,” she explained. “But it couldn’t be the same man. The Harry Landry I know gave over a million dollars to help fund a cyber program to stop sextortion.”

Declan glanced at me with his brows pinched together, no doubt thinking the same thing I was. Harry Landry was a smart motherfucker, donating to NCMEC was right up his alley. Diversion at its finest.

“What’s sextortion?” Zane asked.

“Online exploitation of children. Some of these assholes don’t know how to use the dark web, so they still troll chatrooms. Gaming, social media, WhatsApp chats, even online made-up tutorial groups, you name it and they try to worm their way in. And it doesn’t always involve meeting for sex. Some of these offenders are happy with pictures or will engage in sexting or online sexual role play. Some of the victims have been as young as eight years old.”

“Do the donors get updates about the program? Advances that are being made. Anything like that?” Zane inquired.

“Yeah. Nothing in-depth. But as a way to get them to donate more money, a quarterly newsletter is sent out. It wouldn’t detail the backend of the programs being used, but it would get a general update how their money is being spent, and what’s being planned for the future.”

“Fuck,” Zane growled. “Do you remember the name of the company Harry was representing?”