Page 7 of Peppermint's Twist


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The basement of Devil’s Double Down casino used to bring a sense of accomplishment, but lately, it only serves as a reminder that we’re fighting a losing battle. It won’t stop the Devil’s Handmaidens from staying in the war though. Nothing will stop us.

“Does it matter?” I counter. “They’re all still victims.”

Human trafficking runs rampant in our city. And it’s getting worse by the day now that Nicholi Ricci is back in the game.

Harlow sighs and shakes her head. “No, I guess it doesn’t.”

As we stand there and observe a few other members taking care of the ten girls we rescued today, my stomach balls into knots. All ten have needle marks on their necks, and all ten were out of it when we stormed the rundown shack where they were being held… just like I was.

As if my nightmares weren’t bad enough, now I have to deal with the similarities to my own kidnapping in the light of day.

“Are you okay?” Harlow asks as she wraps an arm around my shoulder.

She’s not normally a touchy-feely kinda girl so I can imagine that her actions speak volumes about my demeanor.

I nod slowly. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

And because she’s right, I pull away from her and weave through several empty cots toward a girl who appears to be waking up. I watch as her eyes flutter open, and the look of panic that crosses her features tugs on my heartstrings to the point of snapping. I know that look, that feeling. I know it well.

When the girl tries to sit up, I rush forward to steady her, but she jerks away from me so hard she falls off the other side. Rage crashes over me like a tidal wave. What the hell did she endure for her to be so scared?

You know exactly what she went through.

I slowly walk around the cot, taking deep breaths as I do, and crouch down beside her. “You’re safe here,” I say gently.

The girl shifts to a sitting position and pulls her knees tightly to her chest. She keeps her head lowered, but there’s no missing the tears that are streaming down her dirty cheeks. The streaks in the wake of the salty drops leave her face looking a little wild.

“I wanna go home,” she manages to push out between her sobs.

I rest my hand on her shoulder, keeping it there when she flinches. Trust is earned, and I have to prove to her that she can trust me, trust the club. That won’t happen if I back off every time she shows fear.

“I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Several minutes pass, and I remain silent while she works hard to slow her crying. When it subsides into wet hiccups, she lifts her head and looks at me. I force a smile in an effort to help her stay calm.

“Can you tell me your name?” I ask.

“Sara.”

“Hi Sara. I’m Peppermint.”

Sara scrunches her nose. “Like the candy?”

“Yeah, like the candy.”

“That’s a weird name.”

I chuckle. “I guess it is.”

Sara darts her gaze around the room. “Where are we?”

Now that she’s talking, I lower my hand and shift to sit on my ass. Sara scoots a few inches away before turning to face me fully.

“Someplace safe.” I tilt my head. “How old are you, Sara?”

“Nine.” She sniffles.

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