“Is it close to midnight?” the little girl asks.
“Not yet. I’ll tell you.”
The boy grins up at Arlow. “Wow, you’re tall.”
“Like a giraffe,” I agree, and the kids giggle.
“We get to stay up way past our bedtime tonight,” the little girl tells us excitedly. “And we had pizza and brownies, and we get to play video games until midnight!”
Arlow smiles at her. “That sounds like fun. What kind of game are you playing?”
“A racing game, and I almost won!”
“Go on now, Daddy needs to talk to his friends,” Joshua says, and breathes a sigh of relief when they return to the bedroom.
“We aren’t going to hurt your kids,” Arlow assures him. “We don’t want to fucking do this either.”
“Why are you here?”
“Because some asshole wants you dead and they’ve taken someone I love to make it happen. We need your help,” I tell him. He listens to the story as we lay things out, doubt growing on his face until I hand him the letter that was left in the church.
He stares at the order to kill him, rereading his name and address. Then I show him the note we received tonight. “Who would want you dead?” I demand.
“Fuck, I don’t…I don’t know. I need a drink.” We follow him into his kitchen where he grabs a half pint of whiskey and takes a swallow.
“Someone you screwed over, or owe money? Drugs? They didn’t pick you by random,” I point out.
“Fuck, Xavier,” he says, the name coming out under his breath. “If he found out.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I’ve been seeing this woman, Lisa. She’s married. I don’t think he knows but she’s planning to leave him for me. If he found out…”
“Who is he?”
“Just some lowlife that I’ve done tattoos for. His wifestarted hitting on me.” He shrugs. “I’m an asshole. She’s hot and I wanted her, but not enough to die for her. I’ll call her and?—”
I snatch his phone out of his hand when he pulls it out. “No calls. Give me his full name and his phone number.” Landon should be able to track him. Joshua nods, eager to comply as I hand his phone back and add, “What does he look like?”
He rattles off the guy’s phone number to me. “His name is Xavier Allen. Actually, I have a picture of him. I wanted a photo of the chest piece I did on him. I took this a few weeks ago.”
I recognize the name immediately. He’s not a trafficker but he was on our radar for buying women. He’s a pimp. That makes sense when it comes to Trinity, but how is Matthew Wynne connected to him? Joshua taps his phone, then holds it up.
My life is divided into two parts when I look at it, the before and after. Nothing is ever going to be the same again. I’ll never be the same. All the wind leaves my chest and I stumble backwards, a cry echoing in my ears that I barely register is mine. The room flips and turns.
Vaguely, I hear a child’s voice asking what’s wrong and Joshua replying that I stubbed my toe, then shooing him away.
Arlow’s voice penetrates the pulsing in my ears. “Lee? What?”
My vision comes back into focus as he takes the phone and looks at the picture. Xavier stands in the center of thephoto, showing off the large tattoo across his chest, but he isn’t what causes Arlow’s jaw to drop.
“The woman behind him,” Arlow says, his head whipping to face Joshua.
Pure confusion is stamped on his face. “That’s Lisa, his wife.”
I shake my head and choke out the words. “No, that’s Isla. My wife.”
Arlow keeps an eye on Joshua while I charge out the door and take deep breaths of the cool air.
She’s alive. Isla’s alive.
I can’t wrap my head around it. She wasn’t killed. She was trafficked, that’s the only thing that makes sense. She was sold to this pimp to be his wife. There was so much blood and they told me—multiple medical professionals told me—she couldn’t have lived, and I believed them. I stopped looking for her and left her with those fucking monsters.
