“Looking for someone.”
“Who?”
She didn’t answer. She only pressed tighter against him, fingers curled in his vest. Shaken. Traumatized. But holding secrets.
“Whoever it is must be important to face down the Mafia and a brutal trafficking ring by yourself.”
She glanced up, hazel-brown eyes wary. “I wasn’t sure I could trust anyone.”
“You could have come to me,” he said, softer now. “Or to Devil. To anyone of the security team.”
She hesitated then averted her gaze.
Rhys’s jaw clenched. Clearly, he was among those she didn’t trust.
That stung. For weeks, they’d danced around something real—fire, push-pull, vulnerability she’d shown no one else. He’d thought it mattered. Maybe he’d been wrong.
He’d seen her talking to Emily and Cari at the club and thought little of it. Submissives formed friendships all the time. But now he wondered—was everything at the club a role she’d played as part of this insane mission?
“We’ll talk later,” he said to his own ears sounding terse. “For now, let’s get you out of here.”
He took her hand and started toward the exit.
“Wait,” she said, pulling him to a stop. “What happened to the other girls? There were dozens of them.”
“They’re being treated. We had medical on standby.”
“Can I look? I need to see if she’s with them.”
“Who? You didn’t say,” he asked again.
“Natalie Flores. She’s a nineteen-year-old college student.”
The name meant nothing to him. “I’ll take you to them,” he said.
Outside, EMS had set up a triage line. Across from them, zip-tied traffickers were being loaded into vans. Gaby ignored the criminals entirely—her gaze combed the faces of the rescued girls, tense and desperate.
When they reached the end of the line, and Natalie wasn’t among them, Gaby’s knees buckled. Rhys caught her easily, holding her upright.
“Let’s get you to a medic.”
“I had hoped,” she said, her voice shaking.
“You don’t see her?”
“I didn’t expect a miracle. She’s been missing for months, but I thought—even if she wasn’t here—I’d get a lead.” Her gaze lingered on a girl with bruises and a split lip, blood on her chin and neck. “I thought I could handle it,” she whispered, voice distant. “I thought I was smart enough, strong enough. But I was stupid, and wrong.”
“You’re not stupid, Gaby, nor are you weak. A weak woman doesn’t walk into a den of vipers alone.” He paused. “But you’re not alone anymore.”
Her glassy eyes lifted to his. “I may not be… but my baby sister is.”
Rhys’s arms tightened reflexively.
Bloody hell. No wonder.
He, Devil, and Alec had thought they were done with this shit—that they’d cracked the ring and shut it down. But trafficked girls and their predatory buyers were still out there.
A cold, steady resolve settled in his chest as he took in Gaby’s torn clothes and tear-streaked face. This wasn’t over. Not even close. No matter what they had left after the dust settled, he’d help her finish what she’d started.
