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She sighed, seemingly accepting that she wasn’t getting any help in that arena from us.
“One of the women from that house we busted,” she began before she looked back at Venom. “She’s a Jane Doe. Can’t remember a damn thing—or won’t talk if she does. I tend to believe her. No one has claimed her. No one matching her description shows up on any missing persons report. We have no clue what to do with her now because we’ve done everything we can.”
“And that means something to me, why?” Venom demanded.
Santiago sighed. “If you can take her and try to find out who she is, or maybe give her a job, I’d consider us even. We both know you guys have resources and access to information even we don’t. She can’t get even get a fucking job at a fast-food restaurant, for Christ’s sake. I don’t want to just kick her out to the curb, but the department is on my ass about doing any more for her. Budgets and shit. It pisses me off, but my hands are tied.”
Venom snorted. “I’d say we were already even.”
She stepped up until she was a foot from our president, and we all moved in closer. Venom didn’t bat an eye. “We’re even when I say we’re even unless you want me to get a warrant for every fucking thing I can think of for you and your club. This is a lot of property…. Wonder what all we’d find,” she mused quietly. For a short little thing, she was sure ballsy.
I could hear Venom’s teeth grind, and I hoped he didn’t break one.
It was unlikely they’d find a goddamn thing because we were that meticulous, but it wasn’t good for business to have LE going through our shit. Our hackles rose as the tension climbed. Venom glared and his jaw jumped under his beard. Finally, he nodded. “Fine. But so help me God, you fuck with us after this, and I will rain hell down on you. Threats be damned. Are we clear?”
She gave an unconcerned smirk but replied, “Crystal. Thanks, Venom.” Her dark gaze darted Angel’s way, and for a moment, something crossed her face that confirmed she sure as shit still had feelings for him. It didn’t last long before she waved to her partner who got out of the vehicle and opened the back door. He reached in to help a woman out.
As she stood, her head was bowed, and a curtain of dark red hair fell over her face. She clutched a small black duffle bag to her chest that had the police department’s logo on it. In her nondescript white T-shirt, skinny jeans, slip-on canvas shoes, she looked like half the young women in the area.
Until she lifted her head, and I got lost in her forest green gaze.
My lungs seized up and my heart stuttered. She had to be a figment of my imagination. There was no way that after countless years, she was standing in front of me.
Yet, I knew. The second she looked up, the soul I didn’t believe I still had cried out to her.
Soleil.
