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“I knew it,” I speak up. “I knew you were as corrupt as the rest.” His eyes shoot to mine.
“Who—Who the hell is she? You said I don’t deal with anyone but you.”
“She’s my insurance policy until I get across the Atlantic. Now, I suggest you do what’s being asked of you before your dirty little secret becomes tomorrow’s front-page news.”
He fumbles his phone from his pocket. “I can try, but why here? We agreed on Calumet Harbor. I’m not sure how fast I can make this happen. The Coast Guard monitors the Iroquois Port. They’ll know…” His eyes are still glued on mine. Only a few more seconds pass before realization dawns. “You…you’re the reporter who tried to get an interview last month.”
“Yep, fancy meeting you here. Have anything you want to say—”
I curl over when Chino’s boot meets my ribcage. Fudge. No, fuck! That hurt. I cough, trying to get air into my lungs, but the searing pain in my ribs causes me to choke on each breath.
“Grant the clearance,” Vincent snaps, stealing the mayor’s attention. He nods and walks off. “Where are we with the containers?” he asks Chino.
“Javier is going through them now. As Renaldo mentioned, some didn’t make the trip.”
A shudder runs through me. I turn to my side and heave. The thought of those poor girls fighting for their lives and dying in those containers. In the distance, a small light, followed by the sound of machinery, pulls me from the ground. The light gets closer, and a transporter carrying barrels comes into view. A man jumps off the machine and walks up to Vincent. I can’t catch a good glimpse of his face, but something about him is familiar. And that smell…
“Where are we?” Vincent asks the man as he approaches.
“Five so far.”
Vincent nods, taking note of the barrels. And you’ve disposed of them properly I presume.”
“Yep, the acid should break down the bodies. It will take some time, but if anyone finds these barrels, there’ll be nothing to identify. Also just finished using the last of the carbon tetrachloride to clean out the containers.”
Tetrachloride.
Tetrachloride.
Tetrachloride—
The police station. The man who passed me in the hallway. The scent that trailed off him. It was potently sweet. Just like—
“Oh, my God, you’re a cop. Jesus, who isn’t corrupt in this damn city! You’re all disgusting, vile creatures. You won’t get away with this.” I hiss, preparing for another lashing. “How do you sleep at night? You’re disgusting. Disgusting!” I break down in a fit of rage and guilt. We knew about these containers days ago. We should have done something. Those five girls could still be alive. “I hope you all rot in hell—ow!” I howl as Chino fists my hair. He rips my head up, and I spit in his face.
“You have a lot of balls for someone living on borrowed time.”
“So do you. And I hope they—”
Mayor Brighton returns from his call. “It’s done. But you need to go now.”
Vincent nods.
“So, then, we’re good?” The mayor steps from one foot to the other.
“Your wife will never know about your private apartment where you have a little girl stashed for your personal pleasure.” Vincent then turns to address Chino. “She’s no longer needed. Bring her on board and stuff her with the rest of the dead ones. We’ll throw her overboard once we’re in open water.”
“No!” I fight, my legs kicking at him. My arms lash out, grabbing at his wrists. My nails find some traction, breaking skin as Chino heaves me forward into the darkness of the port. He drags me away, causing my shirt to lift. The skin on my back tears from the gravel and cement. “Let me go!” I scream. Panic seizes my airways. Throughout this whole insane ordeal, I’ve never felt more defeated than I do right now. He tosses me forward, and I slam into a wall of steel. I raise my head to see the purple container.
“Get up.”
“No!”
He pulls out his gun and aims it down at me. “Bitch, I said, get up.”
“I’m not getting in there.” If I do, I’ll die. He comes at me, and I push off the ground to run, but he grabs me. I scream out as his hand latches onto my hair and tugs me backwards. I twist around, ignoring the stinging pain from my scalp, and reach out, clawing at his face.
He howls and releases me. “You fucking bitch!”
I shoot up and take two large steps away before a gunshot rings out and searing pain blasts through my bicep. Screaming out, I lose my footing and fall forward onto the gravel. Chino is on top of me within seconds, grabbing at my shirt and hauling me off the ground.
“You’re a fucking hassle, bitch.” Reaching forward, he unlatches the padlock, and tugs at the steel door, opening it. The sweet and potent smell is too strong, and my world spins.
