“You’ve never picked out your own shoes before?”
She shakes her head.
“Where are you from?”
“Nowhere.”
“How long have you been with Hector?”
Daisy lifts her shoulder. “I’ve lost track, but since I was about thirteen.”
“What’s your real name?”
She smiles a soft, sad smile. “I’m not that girl anymore. She died a long time ago.”
“Fair enough, but I’m sure you’ve got a family out there wondering where you are.”
“I don’t have anyone.”
“Were you a runaway?”
“What’s with all the questions?”
“Curious is all. Figure might as well kill some time getting to know you.”
“There’s not much to know. My mom walked out on us. My dad couldn’t take care of himself, much less me.”
“But that doesn’t explain how you ended up here.”
“What’s it matter? It doesn’t change anything.”
She’s got me there, but if we’re going to get her to flip, we need something to work with.
I need to talk to Prez. Daisy’s a victim of trafficking. I suspected as much, but damn. Fuck. Since she was thirteen.
That’s hard to hear and not want to turn my ass around and take these fuckers out now.
But we’re playing a long game.
As soon as we take them out, there will be five more fighting to take their place.
When the time comes, we need to be in control.
Nature of the beast and shit.
I don’t like it, but that’s reality.
It’s the way it is and always will be.
“Grab a pair of sneakers. You’ll need them.”
“You know I can’t pay for any of this.”
“It’s my treat.”
“What do you want in return?”
“Nothing.”
