Riordan settled a bit at my words. “Take your time, and when you’re ready, I’ll be here. Tatiana went missing when I was one, so we’re close in age. You’re my little cousin, and I’d like the chance to get to know you and for you to know us. If we had grown up together, we would have been the best of friends. I’d like a chance to make up for lost time.”
We said our goodbyes, and I ended the call. Lennon tentatively wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and when I didn’t pull away, she tugged me in until my head rested on her. I bit my lip and said a bad bitch mantra in my head to keep my tears at bay. I was vaguely aware of the gym door opening and heard the latch catch when the door closed.
“They’re gone. It’s just us here, Indi. Go ahead.” Lennon’s words unraveled me, and the sob that had been building at the heart of me burst out through my lips. She held me while I fell apart, crying for all the things that were and the life that could have been if only Uncle Roark hadn’t tainted the world with his evil. A small part of me recognized that I’d never actually had anyone to hold me when things got to be too much, and it was kind of nice. Lennon and I had been building a friendship during my stay with the Crows, and if rocking a blubbering, snotty mess wasn’t a sign that she was the best bestie a girl could ask for, then I didn’t know what was.
Sniffling, I sat up to see that Lennon had been crying tears of her own while she held me together. I opened my mouth to apologize for getting snot on her shirt, but she held up a single manicured finger before I could. “Don’t. Don’t you dare apologize, or I will smack the shit out of you with my Escrima sticks.” I choked out a strained-sounding laugh. “This is what besties do, you feel me? Thick or thin, chica. I got you.”
“Yeah,” I said, wiping my nose on my wrist. “I think I’m starting to get it.”
Lennon stood and pulled me up. “Let’s clean up in here, and then I think it’s time we took Sheila to go get milkshakes. You haven’t lived till you’ve tried a banana pudding milkshake, girl. I swear, it’s heaven.”
“Bestie, you had me at milkshakes.”
Chapter 25
Priest
After Riordan’s initial visit to the compound, I started researching the entire Petrov bratva. If Indi was related to them somehow, I needed more information about their family than the basic information we had on the major players active in our territory. Mikhail’s father, Aleksandr, the first Petrov don within the international Russian syndicate, achieved the top position in the US bratva about five years after emigrating from Russia. He was thePakhanofpakhansin the states and answered only to Moscow. There was a bit of drama when Mikhail took the reins after Aleksandr’s death, as Riordan had explained, but other than that, the Petrovs have retained complete control of Russian organized crime in America since they were established. An impressive feat given the ruthless reputation the Russian syndicate was known for.
It was only a few hours ago that Riordan prick called to tell Indi that she was Tatiana’s long-lost daughter. After Bones and I had left her with Lennon, I’d headed straight to my office. I could only find out so muchabout the Petrovs on my own, and now that we knew they were related to Indigo, it was time to break out the big guns. I knew my contact with the Reno PD wouldn’t be able to uncover the depth of information that I was looking for. I ran my hand down my face, trying to wipe away my exhaustion before I picked up my phone and logged into an encrypted app. I only used this app to contact one person who had installed it on my phone the last time we’d seen each other in person in a safe house outside of Boulder, Colorado.
The phone rang several times before it connected, and a familiar face filled my screen. “This better be important, Priest. I’m on episode three ofTiger Kingon Netflix, and I’m not going to lie, it’s looking like Carol Baskin for sure fed her husband to a tiger. What do you want?”
“Jesus, Clover, that documentary came out years ago, and you’re just now watching it?” Hazel eyes with molten gold rings around the pupils narrowed as Clover pursed her lips, scowling at me. To be fair, Clover usually scowled at me, so I was used to it.
“The date the documentary premiered has no bearing on whether or not you’re interrupting my ‘me time,’ dick. You only call when you want something, so spit it out.” Clover’s bitchy attitude didn’t rile me at all because it was just how she was. With her dark brown pixie hairstyle and septum piercing, she looked like a punk rock fairy. You’d think someone with a name likeCloverwould be a sweet, suburban sorority girl and not a snarky, reclusive hacker…and you’d be wrong. So, so wrong.
We met a few years ago when Los Cuervos raided a facility we believed held trafficking victims. Men were loading women and children into a tractor trailer when we arrived on the scene and slaughtered the piss-poor excuses for human beings who thought they could sell people. The traffickers must have suspected someone was coming for them because they had been in the process of clearing out when we rolled up. I’d never forget the bodies in cages lining the walls or the terrified whimpers coming from the people already loaded into the trucks. When the ringing from the gunshots cleared and we began gathering the victims together, that was when I found Clover.
She was huddled in the corner of a cage, chained by her wrist to the cold iron bars. I approached her slowly, hands out and words gentle like I was soothing a skittish horse. Trafficking victims were subjected totrauma of all varieties, and we always did our best to avoid adding to that trauma. A gentle, calm, and decisive guiding hand was what was needed now to show the people here that they were safe with us. This girl didn’t cower in her cage like the majority of the people currently in her position, even though she was visibly shaking in fear. I did my best to look kind and kept my hands visible. Eyes nervously tracking my movement, she pressed her parched lips together so tightly they were turning white.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay. We’re here to help; no one else will hurt you. I’m going to touch your wrist now. Let’s get that shackle off you so we can leave.” She extended a shaky arm my way, and I worked to remove her binds. While I worked, I took in her appearance. She had shoulder-length chocolatey-brown hair that hung lank around her face. Hazel eyes, red-rimmed from crying and dimmed after witnessing the horror one human being is capable of inflicting on another. She was probably only a few years older than Ellis.
Gently, I introduced myself. “My name’s Priest, and my brothers and I help people like you. No one will touch you without your permission. I need you to know that. We’ll take all of you to a safe house where you can get cleaned up and rest. We have a doctor on call if you need one. If you have a family, we can help you contact them. If you don’t, we will help get you set up somewhere new.” I got her free of her chain and gently helped her out of the cage.
The room was filled with similar murmured conversations and soft sobbing as the woman before me found her bearings. “Why are you helping us?” she asked, suspicion clouding her expression.
I shrugged. “It’s what we do.”
“In my experience, no one goes out of their way to help unless they get something out of it.” She was jaded, but given her current circumstances, it wasn’t like I could blame her.
“Not everything has to be transactional. We helped you all because we could, because it’s right, and because we couldn’t stand not to. So, this rescue is on the house.”
Some, but not all, of the suspicion faded from her hazel eyes. “Well, Priest, if that’s the case, then I’ll offer my professional advice pro bono. Don’t leave until you find the security room. Yesterday, there were somemen here who seemed like they were in charge. They were angry, yelling, and they ended up shooting one of the men who’d ‘unnecessarily damaged the product.’” She scoffed, and rage filled her eyes. “Fucker got what was coming to him, but the fact they knew details about what he’d done to one of the girls in the cages means they have cameras in here. If those cameras aren’t on a closed system, they may have video of you. You better hope they’re not live streaming.”
I was surprised that she’d been coherent enough in her shock and terror at being treated like human chattel to notice anything about their security setup but tried not to let it show on my face. “We have a guy who’s good with computers. We’ll have him investigate it.” I went to guide her to the vans we had on standby to transport victims, but she dug her heels in. “Modesty isn’t something I’ve ever been afflicted with, so I’ll tell it to you straight. I’m better than your guy.” She made finger quotes around the word “guy” like he was some rando from the Geek Squad. “Take me with you to the security room, and I’ll be able to get you details on this operation and where their security footage is stored. I can find anything online with enough time.” She widened her eyes in emphasis. “Anything.”
I looked her over where she stood, battered and bruised and undoubtedly traumatized. She was doing her best not to shake, and I got the sense that she needed to do this, to help in her rescue and reclaim some of her power in her situation. I pulled my phone out and texted Cricket, letting him know he needed to find their security room and that we’d have company when he did.
“Alright, but you already said this consultation is pro bono. I better not get a damn bill in the mail.”
She snorted a laugh and then looked shocked, like she’d never thought she’d be capable of laughter again after everything she’d been through.
“Clover. My name, that is. It’s Clover,” she said.
I smiled widely. “Nice to meet you, Clover. Let’s see what you can do.”
I softly shook my head to dislodge the memory of the girl I found locked in a cage and focused on the woman whose face filled the screen of my phone. Clover had been one of the victims who didn’t have afamily to go back to, so she had opted to relocate to a safe house permanently. Usually, our safe houses were strictly temporary, so trafficking victims could take a few days to regroup and decide what to do next. Clover insisted she didn’t have anyone to look for her and that she wanted to start over from scratch and build a whole new life. We agreed to let Clover be a permanent resident in a safe house of ours in exchange for the use of her hacking skills as the need arose. She became a bit of a recluse but seemed content with her life, so we left her be. We didn’t call her unless it was important, and it said a lot that I was willing to interrupt her “me time” for Indigo.
