Dragging my body from the warmth of Snow’s is impossible.
Every time I’ve thought about touching her over the last five days, and hell, even before then, I’ve stopped myself. What if I hurt her? What if she pulls a stitch? What if she doesn’t heal right because of something I do?
It’s all the what if’s that are killing me. They keep me awake long into the night from where I’ve been sleeping in the armchair beside her bed. What if we didn’t get there in time? What if Annalise stole the only thing on this earth that makes my miserable existence worth living? What if I lost her?
I help Snow sit up, carefully wrapping a robe around her shoulders and tying it above her sutures. I’ve found I like taking care of her, even if it goes against everything in my nature to do it, it feels right.
“They probably don’t want me in there,” she murmurs.
“I don’t care. I’m not ready to let you out of my sight yet, so you’re coming with me whether they like it or not.”
Before she can respond, I’m lifting her gently into my arms and strolling out of the room with her cradled against my chest. She leans into my embrace like a sleepy kitten, and something inside me that has been feral and untamed for days settles. Just having her in my arms calms the beast. I was trying to be conscious of her injuries, not wanting to push her or make her uncomfortable, but that was the worst thing I could have done for both of us. The self-doubt has been eating at her for days, and I’ve been slowly losing my mind with each day that passes.
I stride into Storm’s office and sit in one of the leather lounges along the edge of the room, rearranging Snow to make sure she’s comfortable.
Storm watches me for long moments, his eyes flicking between his sister and me as if he’s not sure what to make of the scene in front of him. He doesn’t like either of his sisters being involved in this side of the business, but he lost the fight with Wynter, and if I have anything to say about it, he’s going to lose it with Snow as well.
Wynter has her legs tucked underneath her in one of the chairs opposite the desk, her body covered with an oversized sweater that goes to her knees. Everett is beside Storm behind the desk, his eyes darting around the screen with a furrow in his brow, and Rayne is in the seat beside Wynter.
“Is Tommy coming?” Everett asks, not looking up from whatever he’s focused on.
“No, he’s otherwise engaged,” Wynter says cryptically, and I can’t help the smirk that tugs at my lips. She and her sister are so similar in so many ways, and over the years, I’ve witnessed the two of them give their brothers more than a few heart attacks.
“Let’s get started.” Storm turns to Everett, who finally looks up at the room, his eyes narrowing when he sees Snow curled up in my arms.
I can’t help but look down at where her head rests on my chest, her eyes drifting closed with contentment every so often. I could walk away from all of this tomorrow as long as it means she’s in my arms. I don’t need the death and destruction, or the money and power. All I’m ever going to need is my Snowflake.
“They’re trafficking in the city. They started the same day The Legion took down Angelo and the others. Almost like they knew it was happening,” Everett tells us.
“We would have known if there were shipments of women coming in through the docks,” Storm says.
“They’re not coming by boat, that’s why it’s slipped under the radar. They’re coming on goddamn private jets. Just a dozen or so women at a time. They sell them off and then a new group arrives the next day. It’s a well-oiled machine and one I imagine Lounder has perfected over the years. I’m not surprised they’ve managed to fly under the radar for this long.”
“How did you pick it up?” I ask, holding Snow a little closer.
“I keep a track of what’s going on in the dark web across the country, but with a particular focus on the Midwest, and there were some things that didn’t quite add up. The posts are very cryptic, and they read more like an ad for a gun or drugs. They don’t use any of the usual terminologies, and that’s why it’s taken me a while to realize what it is. The only reason I stumbled across it is because of the way they were advertising their… product.” He flinches at his own word choice but continues a moment later, “The language was all over the place. In one section the description was very much like your standard gun advertisement, but then in the next line, it was like a description of crack.”
“Maybe whoever it is, just sells both and got their wires crossed.” Rayne shrugs.
“That’s what I thought at first as well. But the more I looked into it, the more it became apparent what was happening. Once I figured that out, I started looking at all the ways to get into Chicago. Boat. Flight. Road. I started with the docks because that was how Angelo always brought the girls in and thought if we had a new player that perhaps they would replicate his model, but there was nothing there.
“The other two options were a little dicey. Chicago has thousands of trucks coming in every single day, so being able to tell if there were women in the back of them would be almost impossible. So I decided to look at air next. There’s no way they would bring them in on a commercial flight. There’s far too much risk. But the number of private flights that come in per week is substantial considering the number of airports in and around the city.”
Wynter looks over her shoulder at us and nibbles on her bottom lip nervously. Even she’s not sure Snow should be a party to this conversation, but she’s not going anywhere. She’s staying right where she is.
“The same jet has been flying in sporadically over the last couple of months. Sometimes twice a week, sometimes more, sometimes less. It’s all over the place, but it’s the flight manifests that were even more suspicious. Every time they fly in, the plane has been full, or close to, and every time they fly out, there’s two, maybe three people on the flight.”
“Motherfuckers,” Storm growls. The tension in his neck and jaw is so tight I’m almost expecting something to snap under the pressure. He hates this shit. Hell, I’m as close to the devil as you can get, and I hate this shit. “How are they selling them?”
“I haven’t got that far yet. But I have got some images from security cameras at the airports they fly into. A different one each time on a random rotation. They’re smart, just not smart enough to outmaneuver me.”
Wynter turns to us at the same time Snow sits up, her eyes meeting her sister’s. “Have any local girls gone missing? Any more than usual?” There’s always the odd woman that disappears and you can only assume the worst. I was kept out of that side of our business when Angelo was in charge, but I know for a fact that pimps would sell girls from their stable once they were experienced enough, and fathers would sell their virtuous daughters to put food on the table for the rest of the family. A sacrificial lamb so the rest of the family can survive.
Everett tears his eyes from the screen and watches Wynter, trying to decide how much he should divulge to her. “Yes, there has been a rise in women who have gone missing in the last few months. Quite a steep increase in some weeks, and then as if to avoid unwanted attention, the levels come back to what they were when Angelo was alive.”
Storm clears his throat. “What do you know, Wyn?”
“Nothing, it’s just…” She pauses and braves another glance over her shoulder, and Snow’s body tenses in my arms. There’s something they’re not telling us, and I get the distinct impression I’m not going to like whatever it is. “When Annalise was telling us about her evil plan, she let slip that she considered selling Snow and I.” She flinches at her own words and the tension in the room grows thick in a matter of seconds. “She said that even though I was pregnant, there’s a market for that kind of thing. And the only reason she didn’t is because she knew you would come and save us eventually, even if we were broken by the time you did,” she chokes on the last words, and the sound that tears from Everett’s throat is anything but human.
He stands from his seat, shoving it back so hard it crashes to the ground causing Snow to startle in my arms. “I want her dead. I want everyone in that godforsaken organization six feet under. They don’t deserve to breathe the same air as my woman, let alone threaten her like that.”
Storm rubs his hands down his face and tips his head back against his chair. I’ve never seen Storm carefree, in fact, I’ve never seen him anything other than stressed. Even all those years ago when we were trained to be mortal enemies and his family took my only ally, if that’s what you could call my cousin, away from me, he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. But this, I’ve never seen him look so dejected.
“I have a plan,” I say. It’s more of an idea, but we can flesh it out together, and then we can take Annalise Masters down. She doesn’t deserve to draw another breath after what she’s done, and I hope I’m the one to end her miserable life.
I’ve killed a lot of people, but I have a feeling she’s going to be my favorite.
