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He steps away from us, his hand sliding into his pocket and retrieving his phone. My hand itches to do the same, but I have to keep an eye on these fuckers until we can exterminate them.
“It’s okay,” Tommy says softly. He’s not the least threatening of us, but there are things in his past that make him the best person to deal with the initial contact. “We’re not going to hurt you,” he promises. “The men who planned to hurt you are all on the ground out here, and we’re going to get you to safety where we can get you all seen by a doctor, okay?”
A few quiet voices fill the silent night and it’s like music to my ears because this is the last fucking time we have to do this. After tonight, there will be no human trafficking in this city, and we’ll never have to see the ugliness of trading humans for cash again.
Movement out of the corner of my eyes catches my attention and I quickly draw my gun, aiming it at Dennis, whose cold eyes are murderous. His own gun is gripped tightly in both hands and aimed at me. “I knew you would double cross your family. Told them a hundred times you couldn’t be trusted, that you weren’t with the Saint James scum just for information. But they never listened to me.”
I laugh. “That’s because you’re a whining, driveling little shit who my uncles despise. But you’re too loyal to let go of, and you’ve been with them too long to risk anything you know getting out.”
“That’s not true,” he snaps, his finger tightening over the trigger.
“Isn’t it?” I tilt my head to the side. I shouldn’t be provoking the man, but I can’t help myself. I’ve hated him my entire life, and now getting to fuck with him is just that little bit of extra fun I need right now. “Because even today, they told me not to let you unload the girls. Said you hurt a few the last time and they couldn’t be sold.”
His eyes widen. The only way I would know that is if it were true, which it is. This motherfucker is going to the grave knowing the family he gave his entire life to didn’t respect or appreciate him.
“Everett,” Rayne shouts, and I immediately turn my head to see his panicked gaze. “Emerson and Snow are in the panic room, but Elijah has Storm and Wynter.”
Those are the last words I hear before gun shots ring out and an excruciating pain radiates through my gut. By the time I turn back to David, his smug smile is firmly in place. I grunt at the pain, but my weapon remains aimed at him, right in the middle of his fucking forehead. “Tell the devil I said hi.” I smirk as I pull the trigger. The vibration bursts through my arm, but a gunshot isn’t going to stop me from getting to my woman.
“Tommy, you stay here and coordinate the men. They’re just waiting on the call. Have the trucks taken to the warehouse. I’ll have doctors there, but Doc will be with us,” Rayne says, his eyes locked on the blood seeping through my shirt.
“Can I kill these fuckers?” Tommy asks.
“Abso-fucking-lutely.”
63
Wynter
“You know, I told him to kill you,” Charles says. “I told him you were better off wiped from the earth for your repulsive interests. I even suggested setting that vile club on fire with you in it, would have solved all our issues, but no, he wanted to cleanse you.” He shakes his head.
I blink back the tears pooling in my eyes. I don’t know how much longer I can hold it together, not when something so personal is being thrown about like it’s the fucking weather, but I swallow down the sob threatening just below the surface. I have to be strong. He wants me to fall apart.
I can’t bring myself to look at Storm, not while we’re talking about this. I couldn’t even talk about it when it happened. The explanation I gave all those years ago was vague at best, just the way I wanted to keep it. I didn’t want my brother to know I ever stepped foot in a BDSM club, but now all the cards are out on the table.
“And where do the Russos come into all of this?” Storm asks, and I meet his eye appreciatively. The longer he keeps him talking, the better chance I have of breaking free of these ropes. I’m not sure what I’m going to do if I do manage to wriggle free, but that’s a bridge I’ll have to cross when I come to it.
“I reached out to them when I first started working for you, told them I was happy to give them inside tips. At first it was low-level shit, things they could have found out themselves with a little digging. But then I started climbing the ranks, and the tips started to get bigger.”
The ropes slice deeper into my wrists as I tug at them. Droplets of blood slide down my fingers, but it doesn’t stop me from twisting in every way I can to break free. Every time Charles touches his belt buckle, my stomach rolls at the idea of what he may be thinking, of what he could do to me.
“The day you made me head of security, I thought Angelo’s head was going to explode he was so excited, but we held off making a move for a little longer, just long enough that I wouldn’t be the first suspect. The first favor he called in was when he wanted to get his hands on that bitch your brother married. It wasn’t hard to slip him the route they were going to take to the drop location, and no one suspected anything with all the other shit going on. Then it was your parents. I tipped them off when they left the wedding reception. And then everything else started falling into place. There came a time I knew it was inevitable you would figure out there was a rat in your ranks, but the longer I could keep you off my trail, the closer I would be to what I wanted.”
“And what is it that you want?” I snap. The searing pain in my wrists combined with this asshole’s monologue is starting to get on my nerves. I don’t really give a shit about how we got here. It’s like every villain in every movie feeling the need to explain their entire life, only for the hero to break free and best them in the end. I’m just waiting for that last bit to happen.
“To make you pay,” he says simply. “The two of you here is actually the perfect situation for me. Storm is the one who murdered my brother in cold blood for doing the Lord’s work, and you’re the little harlot who tempted my brother, like Eve in the Garden, ever a temptation.”
“Your brother beat me within an inch of my fucking life. I still have the scars of what he did to me,” I hiss, angry tears gathering in my eyes. “God wouldn’t want this. Have you even fucking read the Bible? Or do you just use it as a way to excuse your actions just like your brother did?”
Charles charges toward me, fury rampant in his eyes. His hand raises and a moment later, pain spreads across my face under the force of his punch. I shouldn’t bait him, but I need to. Angry people make mistakes.
Elijah jumps up from the lounge and quickly pulls Charles away from me, his arms wrapped around the smaller man’s chest as he tugs him a few feet back.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Charles shouts. “We had a deal.”
“And you’ll have your end of that deal, but right now, Wynter is very useful, and until her use has been worn out, you are not to harm her,” Elijah explains calmly, moving away from Charles.
“What is it exactly that I’m useful for?” I ask.
