I figure two pieces of good luck in the pace of five minutes is just the universe trying to balance the scales a little.
I start texting Camille the moment I’m in the stairwell, the glow of the phone lighting up the space as I try desperately to remember the number she gave me when we were in the apartment.I wish to God I’d written it down but that wouldn’t have done me any good; the men took everything I had when I was swept into the trafficking ring, and that included both my phone any pieces of paper I’d had at the tine.I close my eyes, fighting to see the number I’d put into my phone, though, and after a moment, I think I have it.
God, I hope I have it.
First, a test.
Beignet, I type.I bite my lip, hold my breath, and hit ‘send,’ then watch anxiously to see what happens.If I didn’t remember her number correctly, that will go to some random person who will think it’s just a spam message.No harm, no foul.
If there’s not some sort of alarm on this phone.If there’s not a lock I don’t know about.
Within moments though I see the bubbles that mean someone else is typing, and I let my breath out slowly.
“Camille, is that you?”I ask quietly.
Because I need a friend right now.I desperately need someone to tell me what the fuck is going on outside this house.
Then the words appear.
Brooks, is that you?
I almost drop the phone in relief, but sag against the wall instead, and start typing out a quick message asking her what’s going on in the outside world.I tell her where I am and who has me, and then ask the most important question: Has she heard from Lucien?
People are already saying you’re back in Dom’s pocket,comes the quick reply.Kate and I are working on research here, though.We’ve been told your friend Aislyn is still in town.The ship she was supposed to be on never left.Rumors that girls are being moved.What do you want me to do?
She and Kate are together.Perfect.And they’re doing research.They know where Aislyn is.That’s new.
Girls are still being moved.Aislyn is still in town.
But she was due to be shipped out.I had the timeline tattooed into my head.Why the fuck would they have stopped that shipment?
Why were they messing with their timeline, and evidently just for her?Because the other girls were still being moved, but Aislyn was still in town, despite her ship date passing.From what I’d seen, the ring ran like a well-oiled machine.Not an organized one, for sure, but one with a very specific timeline.The girls left on a regular schedule–one that didn’t leave any time for anyone to discover them still in town.They either went to auction or went onto a ship to be sent somewhere else.
So why the fuck had they changed that for Aislyn?It didn’t make sense.She was a high-value girl who would have brought a good price–I hate that I’m even thinking of her in that way–so why hold onto her longer than you have to?
Unless...
Unless...
I’m running up the stairs again before I come to the end of the thought, because I need to get out of these stairs and into my bedroom, where I have more safety to think.Because if what I’m guessing is right, then I need to focus on the problem and not the fact that I’m still exposed to my father’s men.
Because if what I’m guessing is right, then my father is keeping Aislyn in town for a reason that has nothing to do with selling her and everything to do with blackmail.It doesn’t make any sense for him to hold a girl longer than he has to, unless he has a very good reason for that.
Like that he’s figured out who I m in New York, who my friends are, and that he has someone connected to my life there.And further, that he can potentially hold her over my head to make me do what he wants me to do.
Unless I’m willing to risk her life.
Yes, it’s a big jump, and yes it’s making rather a lot of my own importance.But it’s the only thing that makes sense.He already knows my mother went to New York, back to the Irish mob, and surely he has spied in New York.They could have told him that I’ve been seen with that Irish mob, and with one member in particular.
Sloane Brennan.
Cousin to one Aislyn Brennan.
And Jesus Christ, that means he knows who my friends are...and potentially how to get to them, too.
I’d already thought things had gone to hell in a hand basket and that they couldn’t get any worse, but holy fucking shit, this is a lot worse.
Alotworse.
