“Automatic how?” he asked.
“I’ve set up a dead man’s switch,” she said.
He stared at her. “You set one up?”
“Yes.” Her tone sharpened defensively. “You think I’m stupid enough to run without leverage?”
“No,” he said truthfully. “I think you’re a hell of a lot smarter than you let on.” He knew that he was pressing her, but he needed to know. “So if he kills you,” he started.
“It all goes public,” she quickly finished.
“And if he captures you?” Cyclops almost whispered. There was no way that he’d ever let that happen, but he needed answers.
“He’ll force me to deactivate it,” she breathed. “I won’t want to do it, but he’ll torture me until I comply. He’s ruthless. Cyclops swore under his breath. Her life wasn’t just valuable to him—it was critical to her father’s entire empire. No wonder the bounty was huge and they wanted her alive. He needed her to be capable of talking, and if she refused, he’d force her to.
Trixie let out a shaky exhale. “That’s the whole story. That’s everything.”
“No,” he said quietly. “It’s not.”
She stiffened. “What do you mean?”
He angled toward her, lowering his voice. “You haven’t told me the part that scares you most. The real reason you ran.”
“I told you?—”
“No,” he said, soft but firm. “You told me the danger. Not the fear.”
Her lips parted, and her eyes flashed. She looked away, then back at him, as though wrestling with herself. “When he realized that I had copied everything and set up the files to release, hethreatened to give me to someone. He meant it when he said that he’d sell me off to the highest bidder. He already had one set up and ready to collect me.”
Cyclops froze. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” she whispered, “he promised me to one of his contacts as payment for his debt. A man named Falco. He collects people, especially women. But only the ones that he can control.”
A chill ran down Cyclops’s spine. “He was trafficking his own daughter?”
“No, not exactly,” her voice trembled. “He said it would keep me safe. That Falco would protect me. That it was my duty to the family to be ‘useful’.” Cyclops’s hands curled into fists so tight he felt the bones grind. He wanted to kill Vincent Lee—not metaphorically, but literally and very slowly.
“He owns me, Cyclops,” she whispered. “Or he thinks he does. And men like him don’t take kindly to their property running away.”
He reached out instinctively before stopping himself just inches from putting his hand on her shoulder. “Trixie,” he breathed. She didn’t move and didn’t even look like she was breathing. He lowered his hand onto her shoulder gently, carefully, as though he was touching a wounded animal. “You’re not property,” he said. “Not to me—not to anyone except your asshole father.”
She closed her eyes, just for a second. “He’ll keep coming for me,” she whispered.
“Let him come.” His voice went low and dangerous. “We’ll be ready for him and the army he’ll send. But there is no fucking way that he’s going to get his hands on you—not while I’m alive and breathing.”
She looked at him, and something warm flickered beneath all the fear in her eyes. It was something that made him feel tooweak to handle the weight of her world. How she had handled it up until this point was a mystery to him. “You don’t even know me,” she murmured again.
He shook his head. “I know enough, honey.”
“Enough for what?” she asked.
He stood, offering her his hand. “Enough to fight for you. Enough to protect you. Enough to burn your father’s empire to ash if he comes near you again.” Her breath hitched. “And,” he said, softer, “enough to say that you’re not alone anymore.”
She stared at his hand, and he held his breath, waiting for her to take it. And then, slowly, she took it. As he helped her to her feet, a shout came from the gate. It was Razor’s voice, and whatever he was shouting about sounded urgent.
“Cyclops, we’ve got movement in the woods!” he shouted. Cyclops tightened his grip on Trixie’s hand. The night wasn’t done with them yet—in fact, he was sure that it was only just getting started, and the sun was almost up.
TRIXIE
