Alfonso?” she asked again, slightly louder this time.
“Yes,” Adelita said, voice trembling.
Saffie swallowed and held up her chin. “He . . .” She looked to Phebe and Phebe smiled. Her mother nodded her head in encouragement for whatever her daughter was about to say. Saffie dropped her eyes and whispered, “He . . . took me.” I felt Adelita’s sharp inhale of breath and felt my own stomach plummet. Because I’d never heard this shit. Never heard much of Saffie’s life outside of knowing she was a cult kid first, then was taken by Meister to sell to Garcia. Saffie’s voice broke but she pushed through. “When he came to . . . visit, he would . . . he would be given me . . . he would always ask for . . . me.”
A pained sob flew from Adelita’s mouth and her hand covered her lips. She backed into me until she couldn’t move anymore. My heart was racing at what this kid was saying. I could see how much it was killing Saffie to say it. Fuck. It was killing Adelita to hear it. A kid. Saffie was a scared fucked-up kid.
Adelita shook her head, but Saffie said, “He had . . . had a birthmark, here,” she pointed to her neck. Her hand dropped and impossibly, her face lost even more color. “I . . . I was never given the potion . . . the potion they always gave us when men came. He said he wanted . . . me to be present and awake.” Her breath hitched. “He said . . . he wanted me to remember him.” She visibly shook, and I thought the kid was gonna pass out. “And I did. I always . . . will always remember the devil’s . . . mark on his neck.”
“That’s enough.” AK pushed through us all and looked to me. “She isn’t saying anything all else.” He next faced Adelita. “What the fuck more proof do you need?”
Adelita’s breathing was shallow. She was deathly still in my arms. I didn’t think she was gonna speak again. But then she said, “She . . . she doesn’t need to say anything else.” Adelita looked to Saffie, who was clutching Phebe again, looking as exhausted as if she’d just ran a fucking marathon. “Thank you . . .” Adelita held herself together. I was fucking proud of her. “Thank you . . . for telling me this . . .”
“Saffie,” Saffie offered and gave Adelita a weak smile.
“Saffie.” Adelita noticed all eyes were on her. She turned to me, and my chest fucking cracked. She gave me a shaky smile, then chin high, said, “I am ready to go back to the room now, Tanner. I believe I was never meant to have left under your president’s order, yes?” I wanted to bring her to me, fucking crash her to my chest, but I knew if I did, she would fall apart. And that would humiliate her. Adelita had her father’s pride. A pride I would never break in front of my brothers. In front of anyone.
Taking her hand, I turned and pushed through everyone. “I’m taking her to my room,” I told Styx as I passed the prez. I didn’t wait to hear what he had to say about it. I knew Adelita was a few minutes away from breaking, if the shaking of her hand was anything to go by. As we reached the hallway I heard the quickening of her breath. I pushed through my door, pulled her inside and flicked the lock.
When I turned, it was to see Adelita’s face and body crumble. In seconds, I had her in my arms, keeping her from dropping to the floor. Adelita was shaking with racking sobs. Her hand came out and held onto my shirt, but her hands were trembling so much they slipped from me. Scooping her up in my arms, I took her to my bed and laid her down. I kept my arms around her as she broke apart. I kissed her head. I fucking kissed every part of her I could. My shirt grew wet with her tears, but I didn’t give a shit. Adelita had every right to cry. She’d just found out her papa was not only a fucking trafficker, but liked to fuck kids too.
As if she was reading my mind, Adelita lifted her bloodshot eyes to me and asked, “How old is she?” Her voice