a layer of grime and bruises, and I wonder when they last ate. Keeping them broken, malnourished, and weak is probably an intentional tactic to make them more malleable. Less resistant.
“It’s not a long walk. Promise.”
Reaching down, I offer a hand. None of them take it, but that’s okay. I don’t expect them to trust me now, or ever. They may never trust another person in their life. Not completely. My parents died when I was eleven, and it wasn’t until I got out of the system and found the Novak Syndicate that I even began to understand what trust really means. What family means. And after being held captive by a rival gang and tortured almost daily, the circle of people I trust completely has shrunk down to three.
Well, four now.
The girls push unsteadily to their feet, holding on to each other for balance as they follow me.
By the time we round the crates and make our way down the alley, Hale and the rest of the team have finished up on their end, clearing the bodies. You wouldn’t be able to tell that six men had been shot here, other than the puddles of blood we can’t do anything about at the moment. Sidestepping the smears of dark red with the girls following close behind, I lead them toward one of our cars.
It’s already running, two armed men in the driver and passenger’s seat.
“Wait until Hale gives instructions,” I tell them, then help the girls into the back.
“Are you… the police?” The one who spoke first speaks up again, her suspicious gaze darting around the car.
“No. But we’ll keep you safe.” That’s all I say. Because that’s all that matters. “Wait here.”
I leave them behind and head toward Hale and the twins. They’re standing in a tight huddle, discussing something.
“We have to take them to a safe house,” Hale says, glancing at me as I step up beside him. “The risks of taking them to the police are too great for us at this point, and we can’t put them back on the streets either. So we’ll keep them under our protection.”
“That’s a good call.” Zaid nods, his eyes wide. “If this was really a Rook deal like we think it was, these women might’ve seen some shit. Camilla’s gonna want them back, and it’s probably better if she doesn’t realize we took them.”
“Then let’s move.” Hale nods sharply, and we all turn to head toward the car.
We take the women to a safe house located on the west side of the city, a modest little place nestled in the suburbs. It’s tucked back on its own private driveway, reserved for things just like this—protecting witnesses or members of our syndicate who’ve gotten on the wrong side of a rival mafia family. We have dozens of houses spanning dozens of states, ready for circumstances like these.
The women follow us into the house, walking on wobbly legs.
I don’t know what kind of shit they’ve been through, can’t guess at the specifics, but the haunted look in their eyes is uncomfortably familiar. So is the way they refuse to speak, either unwilling or unable to communicate. Even the one who talked to me in the car earlier has clammed up, looking shell-shocked and wary.
Once we’ve got them settled in the living room, I pull Hale aside, speaking in a low voice.
“If we’re serious about helping these women, we need to bring Grace in on this,” I murmur. “I’ve done everything I can. You’ve done everything you can. But Grace will know how to deal with them better than we do, and they’ll be a hell of a lot more likely to trust her than they do us.”
“Yeah.” He glances over my shoulder at the women. “Yeah, you’re right.”
They all need medical attention to make sure there are no internal injuries we’ve missed, and they’ll need a fucking shower and a change of clothes. Not to mention food and something to drink.
Hale’s gaze is still on the women, and I see his eyes darken a second before he turns away with a curse. He looks like he wants to explode but is trying to hold himself back so he doesn’t scare these poor girls even more. I get that. Rage simmers under my skin, threatening to burst out of me at any moment.
“I should’ve fucking known,” my friend bites out, his lip curling. “Should’ve known Camilla would do whatever it takes to get ahead—including shit like this. There’s money to be