“Yes! Whatever you want!”
I bend at the waist, and pin him with a devilish look. “You know what I want,
Lee? I want you to feel the same pain I feel every day. I want you to fucking suffer. Can you do that for me?”
He loudly protests but it’s no match for the wails of agony that tear from his
throat when I throw the match onto him, his body engulfed in flames within seconds.
Once more, I make my way into each of the rooms and set every single one of
them aflame. Just as the last body catches fire, I signal Michael to start recording through the glass.
He presses play, and the camera slowly begins to rotate on the tripod, while
Michael and I make our way out of the building.
The camera will spin in circles, broadcasting fifteen men burning alive on the
dark web. There for all the traffickers’ and pedophilic assholes’ viewing
pleasure. And there for Claire’s viewing pleasure as well.
The bitch is going to burn, too. Mark my fucking words.
“I have to admit, ladies, I’ve been in a limousine full of women before, and
this… is not how it went down,” Michael announces loudly.
Ruby berates him while I smack him upside the head, which wrings out a
snort from the girl sitting next to me.
Michael and I hitched a ride with the eight girls who were auctioned off tonight. Luckily, I had the foresight to bring a shit ton of extra clothing.
While I was busy catching a bunch of pedos on fire, Ruby was in the limo with the girls, reassuring them that they were safe and going home. Still, as men, mine and Michael’s presence cause them a bit of discomfort; the poor girls wary
of our intentions.
Certainly doesn’t help with Michael acting like an ass.
“I actually appreciate the humor,” the girl next to me says in a heavy Russian
accent. “Makes me feel less broken when people don’t treat me like glass.”
“See?” Michael mutters indignantly, still rubbing the back of his head.
“Fair enough,” I concede. “He still deserved it.”
“Did you kill them?” she asks, peering up at me. She’s a pretty girl, with long
brown hair and hazel eyes that remind me of Jay’s. I remember her standing on
the stage while I bid, her chin tipped high and posture ramrod straight.
She’s not one to cower, that much is clear.
I arch a brow. “You mean the people bidding on you?”
“Aside from you? Yes.”
“I did,” I confirm.
She pauses for a beat, then looks away. “Good.”
I turn my gaze away, too, relieving her of my probing stare. “Anyone else you
want me to kill?”
She sniffs. “I can think of a few.”
“How about we trade, then. I’ll kill whoever you want me to if you can tell me if you’ve seen someone for me.”
I feel her stare once more, so I meet it.
“Show me her,” she whispers. Pulling out my phone, I bring up Addie’s
author photo. My chest clenches painfully, and I turn the screen towards the Russian girl.
“Her name is—”
“Addie,” she murmurs, and my heart stops.
“You know her?”
“She was in the house with me. Still there, last time I checked.”
“Where?” I snap, incapable of minding my tone.
“I don’t know,” she answers, her voice hardening. “Are we in Oregon?”
“Yes. We’re in Jacksonville.”
“Then she is close. I was blindfolded on the way to and from the house, so I’ve no idea where it is, but I counted the minutes, and we were in the car no more than an hour. All I can tell you is that the owner’s name is Francesca, she runs the place with her brother, and it’s somewhere in the middle of the woods.”
I take a deep breath, briefly meeting Michael’s wide stare. Hearing that Addie
could only be an hour away has my heart racing. Out the window goes my patience and discipline. My fingers are itching to search nearby towns and go house-to-house, kicking in their doors until I fucking find her.
Part of the reason I came here tonight was in the hope that someone would have seen her. But truth be told, I didn’t think I’d get this lucky.
“What’s your name?” I ask, voice strained.
“Jillian.”
“Can you tell me… fuck, is she—”
“She’s alive,” Jillian cuts in, understanding my need to ask how she is but knowing the answer is obviously not good. “She’s had a hard time with one of the girls in the house—Sydney. They’re at each other’s throats, and it gets them punished a lot.”
Low tremors radiate through my limbs, gradually increasing as Jillian goes on.
“And she has a buyer already, last I heard. He’s been visiting her.”
I clench my jaw so hard, the muscle nearly bursts from the pressure.
“His name?” I ask through gritted teeth.
She’s quiet, seemingly struggling to remember. Then a mousy voice pipes up,
answering the question for her.
“Xavier Delano,” she says. Jillian and I turn to the girl with short brown hair and round glasses.
“That’s his name,” she reaffirms. “I-I was in the house with Addie, too.”
“Thank you…”
“Gloria,” she supplies when I trail off.
“Thank you, Gloria. You need me to kill any assholes, too?”
She smiles and shakes her head no. “I have enough blood on my hands.”
Funny, I feel the opposite. I’ll never have enough on mine.
Chapter 20
The Diamond
Present
“Shit,” Rio mutters after Francesca leaves, his movements quickening.
My brows plunge, and my heart picks up speed from his obvious concern.
“Claire?” Who’s Claire?”
He glances at me, and I watch him visibly shut down, like pulling a string and
the blinds slamming over his eyes. Whoever Claire is, she’s to be feared.
Ignoring me, Rio finishes bandaging me up, and then grabs my arm and
forces me into an upright position. He walks to my dresser and opens the drawers, throwing random articles of clothes at me.
“What—Rio, what the fuck is wrong with you?” I snap, a shirt smacking me
directly in the face.
“Claire is the one who put the target on your head,” he says, keeping his voice