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Apollo didn’t turn or respond to Brown’s claim. He poured some inky black brew into a paper cup, wondering just how much Indika had shared with her partner.
Enough that he knew she believed him dead.
Thinking of the grief he’d put her through, he finally turned and faced Brown.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?”
Brown sat forward, elbows on his knees and bowed his head. Damn, Apollo felt the man’s torment. He’d experienced it more often than he wanted in his career. Men lost. Friends lost. And sometimes the deaths of enemies still brought a pang of remorse.
He took a sip of coffee and swallowed. It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t half bad.
“We broke up a sweatshop a couple was running out of the cellar of their food market.”
Apollo’s brows shot up.
Brown cradled his head in his hands and scrubbed his fingers over his short brown hair. When he sat up, he looked like he’d aged years.
“The basement was stuffed with illegals living and working there. Mothers, kids. Some men too. They were being worked day and night, paid no wages at all.”
“Slaves in the country?”
“You got it.” He pushed out a sigh. “Anyway, Indika took point.”
“You sent her in first? Jesus.” His fist tightened on the paper cup and hot coffee spilled over his knuckles.
“I didn’tsendher in. She said she’d take the lead, and I let her. Because we’re partners and I have complete faith in her abilities.” Brown’s stare bored into Apollo’s. A long heartbeat passed as they sized each other up in an internal wrestling match.
Apollo brought the coffee back to his lips, breaking the moment.
Brown grunted. “There was a truck outside when we walked up. They must have spotted us, saw we were armed. When I tried to stop the vehicle, they almost ran me over. We called out and informed them we had a warrant to enter the place, but as soon as we were inside, they rushed us.”
“Hell.” Apollo couldn’t stand the thought of Indika getting jumped. “Who do I have to hunt down and kill?”
A smile lurked at the corner of Brown’s mouth. “No one. They’re all in custody. But one got a piece of Indika, and she took a knife here.” He leaned back and pointed to a spot low in his abdomen.
Not a flesh wound, then. Something much more serious. Of course, Apollo already knew as much. She wouldn’t be in surgery right now if the wound were superficial.
He moved to take a seat along the wall, putting a chair between him and Brown. Neither of them spoke. Brown seemed lost in his thoughts, maybe even reliving the raid on the sweatshop.
Apollo could aska lotof questions—why didn’t they have backup? Where was Brown when that motherfucker pierced a knife into Indika’s stomach?
He chose to remain silent and finished his coffee.
“You said you have her cell phone. Can I see it?” he finally asked.
Brown stirred and straightened from his slumped position. He produced the device and held it out to Apollo.
“Thanks. I’ll give it to her when she wakes from surgery.” He pocketed it.
“I don’t even know your name.”
“You can call me Apollo.”
Brown went back to his silence, and Apollo tried not to count the minutes ticking by. Hours later, a nurse entered the room. Her gaze landed on Brown and skidded over to Apollo.
“You’re here for Ms. Devi?”
Apollo jolted to his feet and Brown followed. “We are.”
