As her hand smooths up and down the horse’s velvety hide, a few tears fall and hit the soft dirt. Stilling her hands, she leans into him, pressing her face against his neck while Smokey sits at her feet. After a few seconds, her shoulders rise and fall, and her faint cries echo lightly through the space.
Levy and I share a brief, unspoken moment, both of us wiping tears. This is why we do what we do.
Then, as quickly as it started, her cries settle, and she steps away from Apple Jack with a quick pat and a respectful bow. Taking a moment to wipe her eyes, she sends Smokey a wave and then gives me a small nod.
We take the pathway back to the bunkhouse, the crushed granite crunching softly beneath our feet as we walk in companionable silence. I accompany her down the hallway to the room she shares with Katrina, a young woman who came to us a couple of weeks ago.
The translator helped Biyu tell us that she would rather bunk with someone else, and we got lucky with Katrina. She’s a good egg, funny and sweet, and when Biyu sees her again, she grabs her arm as if she’ll never let her go.
Katrina and I share a glance. Helping Biyu also helps Katrina, and I’m glad to see it. I cross the house back to my room and crawl into bed, allowing myself ten minutes to deflate while staring at the ceiling.
Levy:I need to hit something.
I’d forgotten that Levy also had a heavy session today. He’s helping a local woman leave her husband, and the police have been involved multiple times.
Bram:I’ll be right over.
I change into my workout gear and head back to the therapy barn. I meet with Levy in the back, where we have mats laid out. Wordlessly, we step onto the mats, bow to each other, and begin trading self-defense moves.
I start with a sneaky behind-the-knee kick, immediately taking him to the floor. Dancing back, I let him reset, and he comes after me with a hip jab and full-on body slam onto the mat.
“Fuck,” I breathe out. “Guess your day looked like mine.”
“Yep. You working with that other kid from the Dallas area?”
I nod, accepting his help up.
We nod, and I go in with a strike, which he blocks while I avoid a kick. We separate, bouncing on our feet, fists raised.
“I’d like just a few minutes alone in a room with my patient’s asshole husband,” Levy growls. “He walked in, saw she’d brewed a fresh pot of coffee, and threw it at her. Burned her face and neck. Mostly first-degree burns, but she was terrified.”
“Fuck. I didn’t realize they were still in the same house.”
“No, he had to move out. He broke the restraining order. Again.”
“Do we need to talk to Charlie about…?”
He’s already shaking his head. “No, he’s been put in jail, and the charges will probably stick this time. Patrick was furious,” he says, talking about our local sheriff.
Levy curses, knocking his temple with a wrapped hand. “Mom and Dad always taught us that violence is not the answer, but they didn’t know the questions we’d be asked.”
“Agreed. Hell, I’ll join you. I spent the better part of my afternoon waiting for my translator to tell me exactly how many ‘owners’ Biyu had in the six years since she was taken from her family.”
“Fuck these human traffickers,” Levy spits out.
“I know Charlie likes to leave them to the authorities, but I suspect he doesn’t hold back if confronted by one.”
“Exactly.” Levy shakes his head and goes in for a rabbit punch to the side that I can’t quite block. “I don’t think it happens often though. It sounds like they try to avoid direct confrontation. I’m curious. I sometimes wish…”
“What?”
“Nah, doesn’t make any sense.”
“Say it.”
Scrubbing the back of his head, he pauses, then barrels forward. “It’d be worse in so many ways, but I almost wish we could be there in the moment. My guy yesterday? He told me the four-hour drive from Dallas to Austin felt like a death march. He was surprised when he was fed and given a private room.”
I grunt in response. “Yeah, Charlie said the translator app went down. What good are we if we can’t talk to them? Hell, he couldn’t communicate with the kids, and they wouldn’t eat the ice cream he bought for them because that was how their captors drugged them.”
