Helpless (Steel Demons MC #5) - Crystal Ash Page 0,36

lips tightened into a thin line. “Ever since the Blake family came into power, we’ve had an increasing number of refugees coming in from the north. A big part of Blake’s talks with Vance include deals for repatriation. They also want to contract labor from us, because so few people are willing to stay in his territory.”

“What do the refugees say?” Jandro’s tone sounded odd when he was so serious.

“About what you’d expect,” Josh sighed. “Long hours of unsafe working conditions for little pay, or no pay at all. Food rations are barely enough to keep people healthy. Armed police patrol the streets and beat people for the slightest infraction. Very little is being done in the ways of education, housing, and general safety.”

“Let me guess,” I ventured. “No reliable medical services, or very poor ones at that.”

Papers crinkled and shuffled as Josh’s fingers tightened around the documents on the governor’s desk.

“Birth control is outlawed,” he confessed with a grim expression. “Blake says it’s a temporary measure to help boost their population, but…”

A heavy scratching cut into his words, and all heads turned to see Grudge scrawling on a notepad. T-Bone rested his chin on the silent man’s shoulder to read the message, then looked up at Josh.

“How is Blake justifying the working conditions? What excuse does he give for people leaving?” he read aloud, while Grudge looked on expectantly for the answer, lips pursed slightly in determination.

“From what I’ve overheard,” Josh rubbed his forehead, “Blakeworth is a hot spot for oil and natural gas, which is what most of the workforce revolves around.”

“It’s tough work,” I said with a nod. “I grew up in an oil-rich area in Texas.”

“Right, so Blake kept saying that his people are soft and they’re not used to hard work. That they’re just lazy, entitled, and need to be corrected.”

“Hence why he wants labor from Four Corners,” Jandro realized. “He sees all the progress going on here and wants it for himself.”

“Motherfucker sounds like Hitler,” Gunner breathed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he was running labor camps and shit.”

The whole room nodded their silent agreement while Josh rifled through more documents on the governor’s desk.

“So it’s reasonable to assume Kyrie is not in good hands,” the secretary muttered, pulling out a folder and opening the top cover. “But a messenger delivered this three days ago, and that’s what really sealed it for us.”

He passed the folder to T-Bone, whose eyebrows shot up the moment he saw its contents. Dyno and Grudge peered over eagerly to see, their faces morphing into knitted brows and narrowed eyes.

Once all three finished looking, T-Bone glanced at us, then at Josh as he held the folder limply in his lap. “Can they see this?”

“Of course.”

T-Bone crossed the room, holding the folder out to Reaper and I with a grim face.

“Oh my…” My hand flew to my mouth.

“Jesus,” Reaper bit out.

Jandro and Gunner looked over from next to and behind me, letting out similar curses.

A photograph of a young, willowy blonde woman was paper-clipped to a letter that appeared to have written on a typewriter. In the photo, the woman sat barefoot on a filthy concrete floor with her knees to her chest. Her arms, pale with distinct purple bruises from rough fingers, wrapped around her knees, her head buried under her arms with only one eye peeking at the camera.

Underneath the photo, the letter said:

* * *

Dearest Governor Vance,

* * *

It has been a pleasure getting to know you and your darling daughter over the past couple of years. It’s easy to see why you dote on her, why you’re so reluctant to let your little bird fly from the nest. Unfortunately, birds with under-developed wings most often fall prey to predators who will eat them without a second thought.

Don’t worry, Vance. Kyrie has merely been transferred from one cage to another. She has not yet been eaten, in any sense of the word. Her current cage may not be as gilded as yours, but in time, she will learn to appreciate it and forget all about the glossy veneer of her former prison.

Especially if she finds a reason to stay. Such as, if she finds herself with child, and as a result, must agree to marriage if she does not wish to end up as trash in the gutter. These events will happen regardless, dear Governor, but if you would prefer to have more input on the timeline, and thus, extended time with your daughter, you will agree

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