Briar can’t sleep. Even after spending hours drilling herself in that shitty little dance studio up the street, she’s restless.
I suppose I didn’t help matters… breaking into her bedroom and all, but she needs to know I mean business. And I do. Nothing is more important to me than family, and right now Briar is holding a match that could light mine up.
I still don’t have any answers to my questions. How did she end up in the warehouse last night? The traffickers we’re up against have been successful because they’re smart, especially if they’re taking girls from Boston. They can’t be random, but rather targeted— ones no one will miss. The girls we pulled out of the warehouse last night, most of them fit that profile, broke with no family who would miss them. But Briar isn’t someone no one would miss, Iwould know.
I eye the decrepit building she calls home. Her room is not what I’d expected. Mismatched furniture, mattress on the floor. That’s a big fall from grace... What happened over the last five years? Did she get herself into a bind? Owe money to the wrong people? She doesn’t look like she’s on drugs, though that could be it.
God, she really did pick the worst fucking place to live. Her apartment sits on disputed territory between the Irish and the Russians. It’s one of my uncle’s neighborhoods. I’ll have to remember to speak to him about ensuring we restake our claim on it.
Just because we took out one warehouse, doesn’t mean anything. This won’t end until we cut off the head of the snake. And we still have no idea who’s calling the shots. If the Italians have jumped into the game, I know for certain Cole DeLuca has nothing to do with it. Like us, the Italian Capo doesn’t fuck around with selling bodies.
The people running this are smart, andconnected. We’re talking police, government officials, andmoney. This whole operation screams money.
The city’s restless. My father drew a hard line on selling bodies, and he made sureeveryoneknew it. But ever since his death, it’s been a free-for-all. Seems like one hell of a fucking motive if you ask me.
Kostalov, the Russian Pakhan, has been making a lot of moves, running a lot of shipments, but he keeps it tight. We had a guy on the inside, but he’d been made, unfortunately before he could get close enough to find out anything of use.
It’s almost dawn. Briar hasn’t moved for almost half an hour, finally laying down on the bed and I’m hoping… falling asleep.
I have to go. I’ve got shit to do. Picking up the phone and ringing Mac, I tell myself how we need to make sure she doesn’t go to the police or the news. The last thing we need is an exposé on two Boston Breakers players wanted on suspicion of murder.
“Rí?” Mac answers with a yawn.
“I need you to run surveillance on someone today.”
A groan sounds out over the phone. “That’s a fucking shite job and you know it. Can’t you get one of the recruits to do it?”
“No.” My reply is hard and firm, and Mac stops his grumbling on the other end. “I needyouto do it.” While my brothers would be my first choice, I know none of them are free this morning.
“Fuck, Koen. Fine. What time?”
“Now.” I hang up the phone as a string of far more colorful curses erupt out of my best friend, texting him the address and the picture of Briar’s license I took before I gave it back to her. I stare at her picture, those blue eyes piercing through me, dredging up everything I’ve tried to bury.
24
EXPLICIT DETAIL
BRIAR
Then…
“My turn,” Rí says.
The dark excitement in his eyes gives me pause, and I’m suddenly regretting the game, underestimating the power I’ve given him.
He stares down at me. The heat from his kiss still stings my lips, I’m breathless, my heart fluttering. The first time he leaned down to kiss me, I panicked, turning away before instantly regretting it.
I wanted him to kiss me again…
“Truth or dare, little Rose?” Rí’s Irish accent curls around each word and something deep inside of me twists at the sound.
“Truth,” I say, the corner of my mouth ticking up when his eyes darken. The dark shadows at the edges of his irises overtake the green.
Two can play at that game, sir.
“Okay, Rose,” he says, stepping closer, and I swallow hard as he begins to circle me. “Truth, ay?”
I nod, and it feels shaky.
