Sweet Pain (Amatucci Family #3) - Sadie Jacks Page 0,67
shored up their income with –”
“Trafficking,” Ryker finished.
Nik’s lips tightened as she nodded again. “And they’ve made it very profitable.” She hit a couple more keys. Windows and windows of new pages came up. A variety of bank letterheads appeared. Incoming and outgoing from no fewer than fifteen bank accounts were spread over the screen.
I did a rough tally in my head. “They’re making over a couple hundred million every year by selling people.” My words were a horrified whisper. I felt my head dip and sway as the horror of my parents was shoved in my face. “I’m going to be sick.” I put a hand over my mouth.
Ryker had me up and bent over the sink before the first stomach cramp swamped me. He cooed and crooned as he wet a washrag and put it over my neck.
Over and over my body revolted against the news even though it all made a disgusting kind of sense. If they were willing to give me and ten million dollars to a serial killer, why wouldn’t my father find some way to monetize that? Replicate it?
After far too long, my body wrung itself dry. I hung limp in Ryker’s arms as I cringed away from the sink. He ran the water and hit the switch for the disposal.
Soon even the evidence of my weakness was gone. I was glad. Glad I’d purged it from my system. Now was the time to fight. To take them down. To rescue at least some of the men, women, and children my parents considered cattle.
Ryker handed me a glass of Seven-Up soda that Rafe had brought with him last night. I sipped on it. Felt the bubbles soothe my raw throat. I turned to Nik, smiled. “Sorry.”
She shook her head. “Not every day you find out you’re related to monsters.”
I snorted. “Oh, I knew they were monsters. We’ve just got the proof now.”
Nik studied me. “You good to keep going?”
I nodded. “Sure. Hit me, baby, one more time.”
Nik chuckled. “Easy, Brittney.”
Ryker stood behind me, dug his thumbs into the muscles of my neck and shoulders. I fought not to groan and moan at the feeling of him forcing the muscles to let go. It was heaven and hell in ten fingers.
“My collective is still digging. But we’ve got some secure server emails between WC and AdS.” Nik watched me carefully.
I grimaced. “Find anything I don’t want to hear about?”
Her lips quirked. “Probably way more than you want to hear about. The reason I bring it up…” she flicked through the open windows on her desktop. She found the one she wanted. “This.”
I leaned forward, read an email. I blinked as the words registered. “Wait. You’re saying my father put de Silva and Ethan in contact with each other? That’s how Ethan started getting his subjects?”
Nik looked over my shoulder. She must have gotten the answer she wanted because she looked back at me. “I made a copy of all the files from the bunker. I’ve got the collective going through them.”
“Nik –” Ryker barked at her.
She held up a hand. “None of them will say anything. Besides, I scrubbed out the ones with Willow in them. They’ll only be getting the eighteen months that Willow was gone.”
I smiled. “Thanks. Honestly, I don’t really care who sees them. Not anymore. Not if it means we can identify more of those women. Those baby girls. If it will help those families, share it with the freaking media.”
Nik shook her head. “There’s no reason to do that. I’ll tell you why.” She turned her computer back to her side of the kitchen island. Her fingers danced over the keys so quickly it sounded like one long cliiiiiiiiiick. She spun the computer back around.
A list of names, addresses, and faces had been compiled. I looked up at Nik. “You found them. Gave them their names back.”
She nodded. A gleam entered her eyes. “And I can currently link no fewer than ten of them directly to your father and Antonia de Silva. We’ve still got some data mining to do though, so that number might change.”
A fierce pride flashed through my soul. “Girl, you’re part of the squad. Weird sexual innuendos, oversharing about men and sex, –”
“Hey!” Ryker interrupted.
I ignored him. “Drinking too much and drunk dialing our men. You’re in. And there’s no getting out. Kinda like the Sexy Girl Mafia.”