Page 45 of Newly Tied

“My grandmother…we are working on getting her citizenship.”

He nodded. “We’re not interested in her status, just helping you.”

She glanced at me, then back to Lang.

“The men said if we told anyone what happens in our building, ICE would come and take everyone away.”

“That’s a lie,” he declared, brows furrowed. “But again, we’re marshals. We don’t do that. We don’t ever do that unless your grandmother is a very bad person.”

“She’s a wonderful person.”

He smiled then, and I saw her calm. Everyone did when Lang was looking at them like that. “I have no doubt.”

Looking relieved, she took a deep breath in, and then exhaled, a shudder making her entire body tremble for a moment and then met Lang’s gaze. “There is a gang in our building, and they’re after me.”

“First off,” I soothed her, “what’s your name?”

“Carmen. Carmen Maria Torrado Rodríguez.”

“That’s lovely,” I told her. “Now, how many men are chasin’ you?”

“Four,” she replied shakily. “They were initiating a new member tonight, and he was supposed to”—quick glance up at Lang, then me—“you know.”

That fast I felt the anger in the pit of my stomach. “And they did what? Came to the door?”

She nodded. “They knocked, and when I talked to them with the chain on, they said if I didn’t come out, they would come in for my sister.”

Lang cleared his throat. “How old is your sister?”

“She’s eleven.”

“So you went out,” Lang said, prodding her for the rest of the story as he pulled his phone from his back pocket and slid open the screen.

“Yes. My grandmother was asleep. She wouldn’t have opened the door, but I didn’t want them to hurt her or my sister or my brothers.”

“Where are your parents?” I asked as Lang called the office and asked to speak to Wes Ching. We needed backup again.

“They work until two at the store on Friday and Saturday nights.”

“Okay,” I said, smiling at her, easing her away from Lang because he had to step away to give whoever was on the other end of the line, probably Ching by now if he’d been transferred, more information than I wanted the teenager to hear. “Tell me what happened when you got downstairs.”

“They told me to run.”

She had been given a head start. That was why she was running in sweats, slippers, and a tank top.

“Okay,” Lang said, returning to us. “Backup’s on the way. Ching wants us to sit tight here.”

“How old are you?” I asked, making conversation as Lang pulled his gun, guarding us, checking both the entrance to the alley and turning his head back and forth to keep an eye on the sidewalk in front of us.

“Fourteen.”

“I promise you,” I stressed, as I had her crouch down beside the brick wall, “everythin’ is gonna be okay.”

“But what if they went back for Imelda when they couldn’t find me?”

“That’s unlikely. I’m sure they’re still lookin’ for you.”

She was nodding as the tears slipped down her face.