“Please, I don’t know where she is!”
I pause at the bottom and the sight that greets me sends a jolt of shock down my spine. A middle-aged woman, her dark hair a mess and her pale skin stained with dirt and blood, stands in the middle of the room. Across from her is a man of about the same age holding a firearm pointed at her chest.
“Youknowwhere she is!” the man screams, spittle flying from his mouth. “She’s only a child. She couldn’t have gotten away without help.” He lifts the gun higher, aiming it at the woman’s head. “Tell me where she is, or I’m going to kill you and end up finding her anyways.”
“You’ll never touch her again. So just kill me now.”
“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” he asks. “Well, I’m not going to make this quick. I’m going to make it fucking painful.”
He lowers the gun and points it at her leg.
I pull the trigger. The man drops, the shot a clean kill, the bullet right in the skull. The woman screams and spins to face me.
I make a motion for silence. “Don’t do that. I’m not here for you.”
“Who are you?” she asks, her voice wavering.
“Someone who doesn’t want you dead.”
The woman holds out her hands as if to warn me away. “What do you want?”
“Him.” I jerk my chin at the man’s body.
“You’re not here to take my daughter?”
I shake my head, lowering my gun.
She frowns. “Are you part of the trafficking ring?”
I ignore her and walk over to the corpse, grabbing him by the legs. He’s not too heavy, but he’s certainly not light.
“Let me help you,” she says.
I turn to her. “Why are you offering?”
“Because I’m grateful.”
“I didn’t do this for you. It’s to save someone else.”
She nods in understanding. “Well, you saved two lives tonight.”
I watch her, gauging her sincerity. Her eyes are clear, no indication of deception as she bends down to grip the man’s wrists. Together, we drag the body upstairs. The process is steady, and though she’s obviously exhausted, the woman doesn’t complain or struggle.
After I pull the SUV into the driveway, she leans against the car, her features strained. “Why are you taking him?”
“Do you really want to know?”
She looks me over, her gaze assessing. “No.”
“Smart.”
“Whatever your reasons, I appreciate it,” she says.
“Thank me when you get to see your daughter again,” I reply, opening the back door.
“I will.”
Without another word, I load the body in the SUV and slam the door. Before getting in the driver’s seat, I turn back to her. “Your daughter is lucky to have a mother who cares.”
