Page 39 of Carson

“Give it to me.”

Cole places the back of his hand in the palm of mine. He flinches when I place the blade in the middle. “We’ll never let anyone separate us,” I say, piercing his skin with the steel tip.

“Never,” he agrees, taking the knife to do the same to me.

“No woman, ocean, or problem will ever separate us,” we say, gripping the other’s hand tightly, letting our blood mix.

The promise is still true. I just don’t know what it looks like anymore.

By the time we get to church, neither of us has said another word. I try to shove the argument into a locked box in my head and focus when Jackson starts talking.

He’s filling us in on the ring of human traffickers who have taken over Trap County. That motherfucking place has been nothing but a cesspool of evil for decades. The club eliminates nefarious groups that spring up over there. You get rid of one and another is already forming.

The current one is especially vile.

The number of women who go missing in Trap is insane, but nobody seems to care. They’re always lonely souls with no one to advocate for them. It’s fucking sad.

“So I’m going to need a couple of guys to volunteer to go down to Texas and scope this guy out. I think he’s the key to finding out where they hold them. There is no way they’re going directly from Trap to a buyer. They’re cleaning them up somewhere.”

“Unless they’re leaving them all fucked up. There is a market for that too,” Carver advises.

“Yeah, I hear you there. I’m not saying everyone who comes up missing is ending up with high-end buyers, but …” Jackson holds up a picture. “These women have been spotted at a prominent congressman’s property.”

He hands the photograph to our VP, Elijah, and then he passes it along down the line.

“And these two were known to be in Trap?” I ask.

When Carver takes the picture, he barely glances at it before passing it to me. “Wait.” He snatches it back. His dark chocolate eyes turn stormy, and I glance over at my brother.

“This one.” He taps his finger over one of the women. “This one works for your beloved Jesse,” he says coldly.

Jackson laughs, clearly amused by the uproar that has erupted over Carver’s accusation.

“Take it back now if you want to live,” Elijah tells him, rising from his seat. Nobody messes with his mother-in-law.

Jesus, this isn’t a good start to Carver’s first day here. We haven’t even patched him over yet.

Jackson bangs his gavel. “Jesse will be happy to hear the club has her back, but unfortunately, he’s right. Jesse recruited one of them. It was the only way the woman would accept help for her and her sister.”

Carver releases a stream of air but doesn’t argue.

My focus goes back to my uncle Jackson. “So, back to the congressman.”

“We’ve known he’s been buying women, but this is the first time we’ve had proof.”

Cole’s jaw is working but he doesn’t look at me. I know he’s thinking exactly what I am. The congressman needs to go.

“She’s been our eyes on the inside for quite some time.”

“I mean no offense, but why were we allowing a woman to go in as an informant?” Tank asks, tapping his finger over the photo. “Why put her and her sister at risk?”

Jackson leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of his mouth. “She and her sister came to Trap to settle a vendetta. They were already putting themselves in harm’s way. We’re on the same team.”

Everyone in the room quiets.

“Against who?” I ask.

“It doesn’t matter. They’ll be settling on their own timeline,” he says. “Our concern isn’t with the consumer right now; it’s with the supplier.”