“Yes,” Knox confirmed. “I’m not sure that we’ll ever be able to prove it legally, this far after the fact. But it’s possible—even probable—that the people your father sold you to were part of his operation.”
I tried to process that for a few moments, and failed utterly.
“Oh,” I said, after a long pause.
Knox looked as though he was debating his next words. “Jez... I’ve been meaning to ask you something, but I’m not sure how to do it.”
“Just ask,” I said.
At this point, how bad could it be?
He gave a slow nod. “Would you be willing to give me your father’s last name, so I can try to track him down? Whether you were trafficked through the Vozzina syndicate or some other group, he should be held to account.”
I sat very still. For several moments, I didn’t even breathe.
Omega freeze instinct, hard at work.
“Jez?” Worry laced Knox’s voice.
Heavy footsteps beat rapidly toward the kitchen. Heath appeared in the doorway.
“What’s going on?” he demanded.
“I asked Jez if she’d like me to try and track down her father,” Knox said quietly. “For justice.”
The clack of a cane on tile announced Gage’s arrival a few moments later. He raised his free hand when Heath glanced at him and drew breath to speak. “I heard him. Jez? You okay?”
“Yeah,” I managed.
“What do you think about what Knox said?” he asked gently.
“Levine,” I said.
“What?” Heath asked.
“My father’s name is Levine. Michael Levine. We lived in Thunder Bay, Ontario.” I met Knox’s dark eyes and held them, unblinking. “Do it. Find him and bury him so deep in the legal system that he never sees the light ofday.”
“I’ll do everything in my power to make that happen,” he vowed. “But I also have to ask about your mother. Was she involved at all?”
I shook my head so fast that my neck hurt. “No! She tried to stop him. He hit her. Knocked her down. I didn’t see her get up afterward. I don’t know if she—”
My throat closed up, cutting off the words. Gage limped forward, his big hand closing on my shoulder and squeezing.
“If I can find her as well, would you want to have contact with her?” Knox asked, still in that painfully gentle tone.
Would I want to see my mother again, if I could? I closed my eyes, memories of toasted marshmallows over a campfire, and Christmas baking, and warm hugs piling on top of each other in my head. Was she even still alive? I hadn’t thought about her in so long; her ghost was locked away with all the other parts of my past that I couldn’t risk remembering.
“Yes,” I whispered, not daring to believe it might happen.
“I’ll see what I can do.” Another warm hand closed on my upper arm, Knox’s woodsy scent filling my nostrils in the instant before his dry lips brushed my hairline. “In fact, I’ll get started on that right now. Oh, and Tony’s arranged for us to meet his St. Louis pack this coming Saturday. I think it’s safe enough, now. Bud’s arranging the travel details.”
After a final, reassuring squeeze of my arm, he turned and left the kitchen. I twisted to press my face against Gage’s chest, letting myself be sandwiched between my two mates as Heath wrapped himself around my vulnerable back, covering me.
The plan was for us to fly down to St. Louis on Friday night and make a weekend of it. On... get this. A private. Fucking. Jet.
“You have aprivate jet?” Tony had squeaked, when Knox relayed the details.
Knox looked at him in evident surprise. “No, of course not. That would be wasteful. I charter one whenever I need it.”
