Mercer collected the devices, placing them in a small plastic bag which she handed to me. “Put these in your pocket. Act normal. You’re just doing a good deed.”
I snatched the bag, the plastic crinkling under my tight grip. They returned my phone and led me back through the maze of hallways to the side entrance where we’d come in.
“Just remember,” Mercer said as she opened the door for me to get into the back of the patrol car, but I stood there, unable to force myself inside the vehicle. “You’re doing this for the greater good.” She handed me my phone. “I took the libertyof having one of our tech guys clone your phone. Anything you have on there regarding the animals inside that compound, we now have.”
I clenched my fists, not looking at the other woman. “Then you have the same shit you had before you took my phone. I’m doing this to prevent fabricated evidence being used against me.” Finally, I met her gaze with a steady one of my own. “Funny. I’ve been to that compound several times. Never once have I felt threatened. I’ve also delivered to New Beginnings. The women and children being sheltered there say they’ve never felt safer.”
“You realize that’s all a front,” Reeves interjected. “Right? They’re using those poor women.”
“If you truly believe that, why haven’t you raided the shelter? Why aren’t you doing something to help the women you say you know are abused by the men in the club?”
“They’re smart about it,” Reeves said without hesitation. “They keep the majority of the building under lock and key. Ever wonder why you can’t get past the foyer? They’re hiding something. Likely all kinds of abuse.”
I shook my head, unable to prevent the humorless chuckle from escaping. “Well, Detective Reeves, between the men in Kiss of Death and the two police officers standing here with me, only the police are blackmailing me into doing something that, if you’re telling the truth about this club, is clearly putting me in a life-threatening situation. If I get caught and these guys are the real deal, you’re signing my death warrant.” I pursed my lips. “All for the greater good.”
“We all have to make sacrifices sometimes, Ms. English. This is yours.”
“Yeah? What sacrifices are you making, Detective Reeves? I’m the one taking the risk. I’ve literally not done anything to anyone. You pulled me off the street, threatened me,and now you’re trying to pretend you’re doing the community a service?” I snorted. “You’re a twenty-four-carat gold son of a bitch, Detective Reeves. Karma’s a real thing. I sincerely hope you’re prepared for the blowback you’re earning.”
“Trust me, sweetheart,” he sneered. “I can handle any blowback. Those thugs are all going to get what’s coming to them. Do what we tell you to, and you’ll have a long, happy, uneventful life.”
“Uh-huh.” I slid into the car, fastening my seat belt and staring straight ahead. I glanced up at Detective Mercer. “One woman to another, Detective Mercer, he’s going to drag you down into the muck and mire like an abusive spouse. He won’t take you down with him. No. He’ll shove you overboard and take off with the Goddamned boat.”
Chapter Seven
Cora
The compound gates loomed ahead like the entrance to hell itself. But now, instead of fearing what waited inside, I dreaded bringing danger through those gates myself. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling, no matter how tightly I gripped the steering wheel. Those devices Detective Reeves gave me sat heavy in my pocket, three tiny betrayals I’d been coerced into carrying. I blinked hard, trying to clear the burning in my eyes. Crying wouldn’t help. Nothing would help now except getting through the next hour without falling apart. So here I sat, red-eyed from crying and sick with guilt, driving straight back into the arms of people whose trust I was actively betraying.
I pulled up to the gate, my car’s engine sputtering as if it, too, were reluctant to enter. The guards waved me through and I went to my usual spot at the back of the main warehouse. Marcus stood alone outside the building, his broad frame silhouetted against the afternoon sun. Even from a distance, I could see the slight tension in his shoulders relax at the sight of my vehicle. He’d been waiting for me. That realization landed like a punch to my gut. Given everything that had happened with the detectives, it had completely slipped my mind to call him like usual. And I was late.
He approached as I parked, his pace measured and deliberate in that way that had once intimidated me but now felt like a steadying rhythm in my chaotic world. I took a shuddering breath, trying to compose myself before stepping out. The listening devices felt like an albatross in my jacket pocket, weighing me down.
“Cora.” Just my name, but the concern in his voice nearlybroke me. “What’s wrong?”
I couldn’t meet his eyes. “Rough night,” I managed, my voice sounded as raw as my insides felt. My throat tightened with fear. Dread sat in the pit of my stomach.
His silence stretched between us, a quiet demand I elaborate. I couldn’t possibly explain to him I’d been blackmailed and threatened into betraying him and the club. I busied myself with grabbing the first bags from my trunk, but Marcus gently moved me aside, lifting the heavier loads himself.
“You’ve been crying,” he murmured softly, observant in a way that made hiding impossible.
“Allergies,” I lied and immediately winced. I’d told Reeves the truth. I really couldn’t lie worth a damn.
The compound felt different today -- hostile, like it knew I was a traitor. The camo netting above swayed in the light breeze, casting moving shadows that seemed to follow me accusingly. The kitchen door swung open under Marcus’ gentle push. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a harsh glare on the stainless-steel surfaces. Everything always looked so clean and tidy.
No one else loitered in the area. Just my fucking luck. Marcus didn’t like me to carry much inside, leaving me with nothing to do but wait. With no one here, I could put the one in the kitchen where they wanted me to without fear of getting caught. My whole entire being rebelled at the thought and I knew that, if I did this, not only would I be physically ill, but I’d never be able to look myself in the mirror again.
“Water?” Marcus’s voice startled me. He stood at the refrigerator, holding out a bottle.
I nodded, accepting it with a trembling hand. The cap wouldn’t budge under my weak attempt. Marcus gently took it back, twisted it open, and returned it without comment on my obvious distress. “Thank you,” I whispered, the simple kindnessmaking my chest ache. I took a large gulp of the cool liquid, trying to settle myself.
His phone buzzed. He glanced at it, his brow furrowing slightly. “Need to check something. Be right back.” He gave me a pointed look. “Stay here. Please.”
I nodded, my heart pounding. If I went through with this, it was now or never. As soon as the door swung shut behind him, I pulled out one of the small devices. It looked like a black thumbtack. I scanned the kitchen, panic rising as I searched for a spot they wouldn’t find it.
In my panic I dropped the tiny thing. I nearly sobbed in terror. What should I do now? I could leave it and hope it was good enough. Just as the thought entered my mind, the big, industrial refrigerator kicked on. Where the thumb tack rolled too far for me to retrieve. Served me right.
A wave of nausea hit me so suddenly I had to grip the edge of the counter to keep from doubling over. Cold sweat broke out across my forehead and upper lip, and my mouth filled with a metallic taste letting me know I was about to blow chunks.
