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We walk out of the warehouse, passing Logan as we exit. I refuse to look at him, because I’m too afraid of what I’ll see. When we get to Vincent’s town car, Logan’s voice sends a tremor down my spine.
“I’ll take her home.”
I turn to Logan, who’s back to his cool, collected self. There’s no sign of him wanting to strangle me, but I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.
“I have other business to attend to. Addy, it’s been a pleasure. See you real soon.” His driver hands Logan my shopping bags while Vincent dismisses us both, gets into his car, and drives away.
Well…shoot.
This is awkward.
“So—”
“Get in my car, Addy.” Logan walks away.
“Yep. On it.” I hurry behind him, my tail tucked between my legs.
The ride back to my place is quiet, but the tension in the car is loud, screaming I’m in big trouble. I open and close my mouth to try to explain, but nothing comes out. Mainly because every time I steal a peek at Logan, I freeze up and retreat.
It’s when I realize we’re headed back to the suburbs and not my apartment that I finally use my voice. “Hey, where are we going? My apartment—”
“You’re staying with me.”
Yeah… no. “Thanks, but I’m not into sleepovers. I never even had them as a kid—”
“You wanna play with the big boys? Go right ahead. I’m done trying to stop you. You clearly don’t have any sense of what real danger is. So, while you scratch this itch to be a rebel, you can stay with me. At least I can try to protect you until you realize what you’re doing is childish, not to mention dangerous.”
I twist my body to face him. “It’s not childish.”
“Then what is it? Foolish? Did you not rebel enough as a child?”
“First off…” No. I was a perfect straight-A student. My parents were devout in their religion. The worst thing I did was chew gum in church.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. “First off, this isn’t me rebelling. It’s me making a difference—exposing what goes on behind closed doors in this city.”
Logan’s laugh is cynical and decidedly unamused. “Do you even know who you just sat down with?”
“Yeah, his name is Renaldo, and he seemed… well very nice.”
“Nice. Are you fucking kidding me? Nice? Ha!” He throws another angered glower my way. “That nice man you practically passed out from when he sucked on your hand—”
“I did not almost pass out.” It’s called swooning. “And for the record, he was quite attractive.” My hands fly out, grabbing the center console and the door armrest as Logan takes a right turn going a million miles per hour, the back of his car fishtailing.
“I don’t give a fuck! Renaldo Valdez is a fucking human trafficker. Do I need to spell out what that means, Addy? He trafficks young girls. Sometimes as young as five.” He hisses, bringing his eyes back forward.
The color drains from my face. “Wait, I thought he—holy crap.”
“Yeah, holy crap. Wake up, baby cakes. This isn’t some gossip story. You’re going to get yourself killed if you keep this shit up.”
Human trafficker.
New ventures.
My mind starts racing over everything they said. It didn’t make sense at first. The whole time, I assumed they were talking about drugs, but they were talking in code. “I get it now.”
“Fucking finally.”
I turn to Logan. “No, I get it. The containers. The barcodes. The coloring. They aren’t talking about drugs. They’re talking about girls.”
Logan whips his head in my direction. “What the fuck are you talking about? They were meeting to strike a deal for Renaldo to obtain waterway access. Vincent only deals narcotics.”
“They were. But on the way there, Vincent said he was broadening his horizons. Looking for a new business venture. The other day when Vincent gave you that paperwork. You just assumed drugs, right? But those containers. They were color-coordinated. In the meeting, they talked about colors. I think they meant girls. Each color meaning a different thing. Quantity, quality. Age maybe? And I think those barcodes are actual humans. My god, there were hundreds upon hundreds on that list.” My stomach turns sour thinking of Renaldo’s comment about “lost” product. It can only mean…
“I think they’re transporting the girls in the containers. Renaldo said they had a delay in Florida. Issues with his port. They lost some of the product. I think he meant—oh my god, as in due to the delay, some girls died. We have to stop them!”
“Fuck.” Logan clenches his jaw to the point of cracking teeth.
“Listen, you can be something bigger than Vincent’s goon.” His eyes flicker with anger. “You want this to be your life? To be involved with someone who puts drugs on the streets? Trafficks children? You’re better than that. You have to do something!”
