I ran around in circles, seeing nothing until a break in the trees showed me three men—none of whom sounded native to this state—pushing her into the back of a black van. The badge was missing, removed to stop anyone from having details that would have them found quicker.
I rushed from the trees, the branches pushing me forward, but not fast enough. The van disappeared into the night, the dirty plates blending into the dark surroundings.
I stopped dead, my world collapsing around me, pulling me down onto my knees. The concrete road hurt me, but I didn’t scream over that. But, fuck, I screamed.
My life was over, and all I had left were dreams that would never come true.
The police—my department—failed me. They knew the chances of my girl being found were slim, and they had other cases to attend to. Ones easier to solve.
I walked out, never to set foot in that building again.
I moved to the other side of the law.
That was how I got here—forcing myself to stomach the industry Ihated. I’d taken a few hints from my department before leaving. I clutched at straws, sucking in any information I could get.
I needed an in.
And I found one, hunting through closed case files. One victim who’d escaped had given details of one guy’s rental and his appearance—a shabby-looking cottage. Gold teeth—I took in allthe details.
I showed up at his house, but he wasn’t there. He’d moved out more than a year earlier. The new owner seemed nice—on the surface. But I knew to look beneath that. I blurted it straight out, telling the man with a false smile that I wanted in, that I wanted to sample and sell.
His eyes, big and blue, sparkled with a new light as I pulled rolls of dollar bills from my pocket. Money talks, and I made sure to come full of conversation. I’d sold my house, my car, everything I owned to do so.
He made a call, roving his cellphone camera down my body as he explained to someone called Badeaux why he thought I’d be an asset to their business.
After seeing me for himself, Badeaux agreed.
My looks ensured I got in. I was bigger than most. Six-four and with a face that could charm the world. I moved around the country, settling under the command of the hierarchy in Georgia, but as time went on, I wasn’t out on the field, pulling in girls, boys, whoever would come.
I became more than that.
I became the backbone of this branch—one of too fucking many—while Badeaux—the brains—drifted between here and Europe.
This company wasn’t the one who had taken my girl; it was a rival. A much bigger fish in a turbulent ocean. We were the sharks, with our beady eyes on everyone.
I found the other company within six months of looking, but it was already shut down, burned to the ground by our big boss who didn’t appreciate the competition so close to his turf. Which was funny, because he owned half the fucking world.
What wasn’t funny was, my girl was already sold. And with all the documents burned to dust, there was no way for me to find her.
But I didn’t give up, and I vowed to somehow, bring this empire—this massive worldwide fucking dominion of filth—to the ground.
I was saving the odd girl or boy on the sneak. I couldn’t save the entire world—or, all the unfortunate souls wishing to see it again.
I was no longer a hero.
I was a villain, haggling with my lack of purity. Acting out two wrongs and one right.
Even if I wasn’t here, girls would be brought in, boys, too. If I could save just one, I would. . . and it would all be worth it.
And there she was. My one.
She lay on the cold stone floor, no blanket over her shivering body. She was whispering, her face moving beneath a burlap sack with the delivery of each word she spoke. Her hands stroked an invisible cat—a kitten she’d been calling Bushy as she relived the same daydream over and over, day in, day out.
Jolie’s story was a painful one for me. I’d already met her once before when I found her heading for the road to freedom.
I was driving the truck that picked her up, and I left her inside it when I got out.
I shouldn’t have.
