“It’s coming up,” Whisper says. “Get ready, boys.”
I feel Specter tense beside me, and my thoughts drift back to the man waiting for him at home. It’s gotta feel nice to be loved, but then you have to deal with this too. The fear of loss, of abandoning someone who makes your fucking heart beat steadily.That’s why staying unattached is the safer way to go. It’s why all my brothers are single except Specter now. Shadow tried, and look what that got him.
I rub my forehead, forcing out any thoughts but the ones I need tonight.
Hunt, kill, repeat.
Whisper turns down a narrow street. There’s only one working streetlight and it’s flickering like it’s on its last legs. Which house we’re heading for is obvious. It’s the only one with a light on and several cars parked in front and on the cracked driveway. The rest of the houses look abandoned and nearly condemned. No one lingers outside. No drug dealers, no sex workers, no homeless. I guess that’s why they chose this street.
We park farther down the street so as not to attract their attention. Shadow appears next to the driver’s side and Whisper lowers the window.
“We’re just busting through the door,” Shadow says. “Element of surprise. Kill everyone you see unless we find people who shouldn’t be there.”
We all know what that means. Women, children, and other non-consenting adults. It’s pretty common in our line of work to stumble upon such unpleasantness. We’ve only taken out one woman before, but it turned out she was leading a major drug cartel and sex trafficking ring, so none of us lost any sleep over that one. Even hit men have limits.
We exit our vehicles, gathering on the sidewalk for a moment while we all check our weapons and load them. This should be quick and efficient. We go in, we shoot them up, we leave. Easy. Cops won’t give a fuck, if they’re even found. Who’s gonna be looking for them?
“The leader is a guy named Billie,” Shadow says. “He’s distinctive looking. He has white-blond hair and a mole on his upper right cheek. “I want that one.”
“Got it, boss.” Phantom cracks his knuckles. “We doing this?”
“Yes,” Shadow says.
We descend on the house like a swarm of locusts. Whisper kicks the front door open and we pour in, finding a group of about six men in the living room. In the middle of the room on the coffee table is a naked woman, quietly sobbing and squeezing her eyes closed. A man is between her legs, but he scrambles back when we startle them.
“Motherfucker.” I sneer, stomping over and slamming my fist into his face.
Men shout and scramble while I focus on the woman. “Do you have clothes?”
She shakes her head, still trembling. “I don’t know where they are.” She has a thick accent that I recognize as Ukrainian.
I pull off my coat and wrap it around her naked body while my brothers deliver punishment with their fists. “I’m gonna take you outside. You’ll be safe there, then we’ll take you to the hospital.”
She shakes her head again, this time urgently. “I cannot go there. No, erm, papers. I am here for the…” Her brow creases. “To be the wife.”
“Who? One of these guys?”
She nods, her eyes filling with tears again. She’s young, and fuck, I hope she’s at least legal. Her light brown hair is tangled and matted, his skin pale, blue eyes sunken. She doesn’t look as if she’s eaten or bathed in some time.
“How did you get here?”
She looks around, her eyes stopping on a man who is currently getting his face bashed in by Shadow. This was supposed to be a quick in and out, but my brothers and I have similar triggers. Walking in on a sexual assault definitely brought the rage to the surface.
“I was to marry that man.” She holds the coat tighter around herself. “But he did not mean it. He locked me in room and his friends—” Her voice cracks and fresh rage spreads through me.
Unfortunately, this is a common scheme. These women signup to become wives to American men only to be trafficked once they get here.
“You have no place to stay?”
She shakes her head. “But please, I cannot go back to Ukraine. I have no family. I have nothing there.”
The Angel Shelter. We can take her there.
“Okay. I need you to sit outside on the steps, but don’t go anywhere. We’ll take you somewhere safe and they won’t send you back to Ukraine.”
She nods as more tears stream down her face. I help her walk outside and sit down, then turn around to join in the fun. Shadow is sitting on a guy who is clearly close to death, pummeling his face to a bloody pulp. Billie, likely. Since everyone in this room is taken care of, I slip up the stairs to check the others. Peeking in every room, I find no one until I get to the end of the hall, where there’s a closed door.
I kick it open, gun aimed and ready to fire, but what I find makes my stomach turn in disgust. On the bed is a guy with a needle in his arm, but he’s dead, and judging by the stench, he has been for at least a couple of days.
