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As if sensing the chaos whirling in my head, Agent Brady quickly outlines what they know about the operation. It’s women, mostly—young women, sometimes barely even teenagers, snatched off the street or brought in from other cities. He doesn’t have enough to take down the operation, he tells me, or he wouldn’t need me. But there are enough details that he does know to make me feel queasy all over again.
Why would he make this up? Why would he lie about this?
“You could help me, Grace,” he finishes. “If you want to. You’re in a position to see things. Hear things. You could help us put a stop to this.”
My throat is so dry that I can barely speak. I want to tell him to fuck off, but something keeps me from speaking the words.
If he’s telling the truth…
“I’ll consider it,” I tell Agent Brady. “I’m not promising anything.”
“Good.” He nods sharply. He seems relieved that he’s gotten this far, as if he didn’t think he would get anywhere with me. He takes something out of his pocket and hands it to me. “Here, take this. Use it if you need it. My number is the only one programmed into it. When you make your choice, let me know.”
He puts the burner phone in my hand. The second it touches my skin, I want to shove it away. It’s an older cell phone, nearly identical to the one I stole from that woman while the men were transporting me across the country—the one I lost when I was trying to escape last time. It makes me feel sick to my stomach.
Still, I take it, shoving it into the waistband of my jeans where it can’t be seen under my sweater. I already feel like a traitor, and I hate it.
Agent Brady gives me one more assessing look, as if he’s trying to determine what the odds are that I’ll actually prove to be a useful contact. Then he nods and holds the door open to let me step out of the back room.
I practically run away from the employees only area, but I slow my steps as I approach the main part of the store. I can feel the stressed out look on my face, and I work to relax the pinched knot between my brows and the stiff set of my lips.
Lucas finds me first, stepping up behind me as I pretend to study two different types of pasta on the shelf.
“Hey. There you are.”
He kisses the back of my neck, wrapping his arms around me. I lean back into his touch, closing my eyes for a second to help keep my shit together. There’s worry in his voice, and I know it’s because he lost sight of me for a few minutes. Even in a store protected by backup guards, even though it was only a short time, he worried.
Because he cares about me.
My heart seems to tighten into a hard knot, sending an ache spreading through my chest.
I care about him too. I care about all the men who, whether they realized it at the time or not, rescued me from a horrible mistake when they stole me from my wedding.
But as I consider what Agent Brady told me, the certainty in his voice as he informed me that the Novaks traffic in human lives, a sick feeling fills my stomach.
I was wrong about someone once before.
I trusted Brian, almost right up until the moment he drugged me and tried to kill me.
And as Zaid and Lucas finish their shopping, bantering lightly in that way that usually makes me smile, I can’t help but wonder if somehow, I’ve been wrong again. If I’ve let the chemistry that burns so hot and bright between all of us blind me to what I should’ve seen all along.
I thought I’d escaped the monsters.
That I knew who the monsters were.
But are these men the worst of them all?
15
Grace
I glance at the clock next to my bed. It’s nearly one in the morning, but I know that Hale is here for the night, not working for once. I should probably let him sleep, considering he rarely has nights off…
But I can’t stop thinking about what Miles Brady told me.
Is it true?
Can it possibly be true?
