Sinful Sacrament

by Morgan James

  I couldn't get Elle’s situation out of my mind. I would never look at Spencer Masterson the same way. Hopefully, I wouldn't have to see him ever again. I wanted Fox to finish up his business here quickly so we could go back to the island. The idea of him putting himself in danger was terrifying. He was strong and sure, but he wasn't invincible. Three months ago, I had stood in the en suite bathroom just a few feet from the bed and stitched up a bullet wound inflicted by the very same people he was now hunting.

  I knew this was something that he had to do, a personal mission he began as a young boy. I recalled the day Elle and I had spoken as we perused the farmer’s market. She was right. I never would have been happy with a man who wasn't as domineering and forceful as Fox. Not because he overshadowed me in any way, but because he pushed me, made me stronger. We were better together, no matter the situation. He was shrewd and cunning, and he hired only the best men to fight by his side. I trusted that they would do everything in their power to keep him safe.

  I truly admired his dedication to his cause. Some men would've given up—but not Fox. He would never rest until the man responsible for so much destruction had paid for his sins. I wasn't naïve. I knew other factions existed for the same purpose, and many more would probably sprout up as long as men like Araña were allowed to get away with the things they did. I wanted Fox to make an example out of him.

  It was funny how my view had changed over just a few short months. I had called Fox a monster when I was held captive in the panic room, but I knew now that was the furthest thing from the truth. He had always done his best to take care of me despite the circumstances. That knowledge only dug the memory of my father's betrayal deeper into my chest. A few weeks ago I’d told Fox that I needed the closure, that I needed to speak with him and get it off my chest. Now I wasn’t so sure.

  A huge part of me wanted to demand answers for why he’d done what he had. But I also trusted that what Fox told me was the truth. If he believed that my father couldn't pay back the debt, then I believed him. It was no secret that my mother was the breadwinner in the family. My grandparents were incredibly wealthy, and they left everything to her in a trust when they passed. She was incredibly dedicated to her career and would let nothing stand in the way—especially not my father. I was certain that they had only married because of my dad's family connections.

  Although he had inherited his father's business, my dad wasn't particularly driven. He wasn't business minded, so he relied heavily on others to make decisions for him. I had never before questioned his work ethic or his inability to manage money, but I couldn’t say his incompetence surprised me. He, like my mother, had come from a trust fund. While she has done everything in her power to make her life better, my father steered in the opposite direction, leaning heavily on the resources he'd inherited instead of forging his own way through life. I knew my mother kept my father on a tight leash, but I wondered if even she knew of his gambling debts. I seriously doubted it. If she had, she probably would have cut him off years ago.

  Her goal was to work her way up through the political ranks with the prospect of being the first female president of the United States. It was a lofty aspiration, even for her. Though she was incredibly smart, she wasn't particularly personable or charismatic. Still, she was my mother, and I missed her. Even if I never spoke with my father again, I wanted to see my mother if only to see how she had fared over the past few months. What had he told her about my disappearance?

  I looked at the phone Fox had purchased for me. I could call or text my father right now, but something stopped me. There was no point in dredging up the past if I planned to move forward. There was nothing else that he could tell me at this point that would make it better. It hurt my heart to think of what he’d done, but maybe it was best to leave sleeping dogs lie. Everything worked out for the best, and that was all that mattered. Though I might never forgive him, I found a measure of peace in knowing that his actions had brought me to Fox. And that was worth everything.

  Fox spent most of the day holed up in his office, no doubt still working on tracking down Araña. I knocked just after dinner time, and his men scattered as he welcomed me in.

  He remained seated, waiting until we were alone to speak. “How was your day, angel?”

  “Fine.” I moved around the desk and he pulled me into his lap, then kissed me long and slow. “Getting any closer?”

  He gestured to the stacks of papers cluttering the surface of his desk. “Yes and no. It’s a process.”

  Though I had offered to help, I didn’t have the necessary stealth or skill set to go about gathering intel on the multitude of people involved. From what Fox had told me, it was an intricate process of digging up dirt and paying off informants. Although I’d studied Criminal Justice in school, I’d never spent a day in the field. I knew Feds paid their CIs all the time to pass along vital information, but I’d never seen anything to this scale.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “We’ll find him.” His voice was full of confidence, but I knew it was wearing on him.

  I idly ran my fingers along the back of his neck, gently kneading the tight cords of muscle, and his eyelids fell closed. “Are you hungry?”

  Those dark eyes opened, boing into mine, and his hand slipped up the curve of my waist. “Not particularly, not for food.”

  I smiled. “I can help with that.”

  “Good.” He squeezed gently. “One stipulation—a game first.”

  I cocked my head. “A game?”

  He smiled, revealing a row of shiny white teeth. “Whoever wins gets to be in charge.”

  Now that I could get onboard with. “You’re on.”

  We moved to the den down the hall where we’d played previously, and I settled into my seat. “I’m rusty,” I warned. “You better take it easy on me.”

  His grin turned feral. “When have I ever been easy with you?”

  Never, thank God, because I loved him rough and raw. He swooped in for a swift, hard kiss, then took a seat across from me and began to arrange his pieces on the board. Several moves in, he flicked a glance at me. “Ironic, isn’t it, that the entire point of the game is to protect the king, yet the queen has the most power?”

  “Just like real life,” I quipped with a smile as I moved my rook.

  His eyes captured mine. “A king would be lost without his queen.”

  And suddenly we were no longer speaking of the game. His words sent heat curling through me, and I made several careless moves, no longer invested in trying to win. All I wanted was him.

  “Did you throw that game intentionally?” he asked later as he snapped one cuff around my wrist, securing me to the bed.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  I let out a little hiss as he sucked my nipple into his mouth, arching at the sensation. His hard weight settled over me. “I may be the king.” He teased my lips with soft kisses. “But you, angel, will always be my queen.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Fox

  The man’s terrified brown eyes stared up at me. “Please, I’ll tell you anything.”

  “I’m sure you will,” I agreed. “Do you know a man by the name of Spencer Masterson?”

  His eyes widened a fraction at the mention of Masterson’s name, but he quickly blinked away his fear. “N-no. Never heard of him.”

  “Are you certain?” His eyes flickered again but he nodded his head. I studied him from where I stood several feet away. “You know what they say about climbing into bed with the devil?”

  “I—”

  “It was a fucking rhetorical question,” I snapped, cutting him off. “It means that you had better be damn certain whatever you’re getting out of this will be worth it. Masterson doesn’t give a damn about you. When this whole operation comes crumbling down around his ears, who the fuck do you think they’re going to look at?”

  I stepped forward. “Sure as hell won’t be him. He’s a senator. Respected. Well-liked.�
� Just not by me. Or anyone else I knew. “You’ll be facing felony charges for approving these shipments without checking the manifests.”

  His eyes widened. “B-but—”

  “But you won’t even make it to jail.” I closed the distance between us and dropped my face close to his. “They’ll kill you first, because you’re disposable. You’re just one in a long line of handlers and transporters. People like you are a dime a dozen and unless you open your mouth and tell me the fucking truth, I may as well just put you out of your misery and kill you right now.”

  “Oh, God.” Pattinson’s entire body shook. “I have a family. They threatened my wife, my girls. You don’t understand—I had to!”

  I understood desperate measures. “That’s precisely why we need to stop them. They can’t be allowed to hurt anyone else. But I need your full cooperation, and I need everything you know—the sooner the better.”

  “I—I promise.” He nodded frantically. I gestured for him to begin, and he darted a quick look at Rodrigo before meeting my gaze again. “It was only supposed to be one time. I needed the money, and Spencer paid me in cash. I thought it was over.”

  “Until they came knocking again.”

  He nodded. “I didn’t want to do it, but... they wouldn’t let me out. Threatened to kill my girls.”

  I moved closer. “Did you know what was being moved?”

  He shook his head. “I never asked, and he never said.”

  Not surprising. “There were dozens of children inside those containers.” I watched as his eyes widened and his face paled. “They were brought into the States, purchased by sick fucks who use and abuse them. Make them wish they were dead. And you helped them.”

  “Oh, God—I—” He looked positively ill.

  “You’re responsible for that.”

  He shook his head emphatically. “N-no, I swear. I had no idea. I—”

  “You helped them,” I said forcefully as I braced my hands on the arms of the chair and leaned in close. “Now help me. I need to know everything that happened.”

  Half an hour later, Callum and Rodrigo escorted Rhys Pattinson from the building. After checking with Miranda to make sure everything was running smoothly, Xavier and I headed home. Who was Spencer working for? I knew he was just a pawn in a much larger game, but each breadcrumb led me closer and closer to the man in charge. I couldn’t forget that Sebastian had been in the mountains, too. Was he the man I’d been searching for?

  There was one question that resounded in my mind over and over. Using cash was an easy way to avoid detection. Businesses loved cash because they could cook their books, profit the difference with no one the wiser. But these would be incredibly large sums of money; an American child could sell for upwards of thirty thousand dollars on the market.

  “Spencer paid Pattinson in cash for each shipment. Assuming Spencer and Sebastian are high up in the organization, they would be making a significant amount of money. How are they being paid? And what about the buyers? Not only would they need to have large sums of liquid cash, but would they risk being seen?”

  “Wouldn’t necessarily have to be face-to-face,” Xavier said. “Could be a drop somewhere.”

  “Again with the risk if someone were to intercept it.” I thought about it. There had to be a middle man—or a third-party organization that kept both the buyers’ and sellers’ identities concealed. “It would have to be somewhere safe and controlled if they were to make a drop somewhere. If it were me... I’d launder it through an established corporation. Let’s cross-check Masterson and Moreau and see where they’re involved, whether it’s the same tennis club or investment firm.”

  Two days later, Xavier stepped into my office and passed a packet of paper to me. “Both men are involved with a number of organizations.”

  I glanced at the affiliations listed on the top sheet of paper. There were more than a dozen company names, each of which had a concise report printed beneath. “Assuming we’re looking for a way to funnel money, let’s exclude the clubs for the time being.”

  I began to mentally cross them off, focusing on corporations or larger scale companies that could handle transactions of substantial size without raising question. “Let’s focus on these for the time being.” I ticked eight organizations that seemed most likely. “See what you can find.”

  We were getting closer—I could feel it. The idea of taking down those two alone filled me with feral satisfaction. I wanted them gone if for no other reason than the fact that they’d hurt the women they were supposed to care for. Sebastian Moreau was a cheating prick to his long-time girlfriend Marcella, and Spencer... Well, that fucker had it coming the second he laid a hand on Elle.

  THE FOLLOWING EVENING Callum and Xavier were gathered around my desk, poring over the information they’d been able to dig up over the past twenty-four hours. Rodrigo was currently taking my wife to meet with her friend Rose from school. Neither had looked particularly thrilled to hear that I was sending Rodrigo along to watch over her, but they had to get over their issues—preferably sooner rather than later. I hoped they would survive the evening without killing each other.

  Callum lifted his head. “What about William Jennings’ business?”

  “William’s a terrible businessman.” I shook my head. “He runs a software company that was basically handed to him by his father, but it’s taken quite a hit recently.”

  “He’s looking to sell.” Xavier flicked pages until he reached a report at the back of the file and handed it to me. “Here are the last quarter’s numbers.”

  Jesus. I knew things were bad for Jennings, but this? He’d hemorrhaged so much money that it’d left him in almost dire straights. I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was. The fact that he’d run his business into the ground, coupled with his penchant for gambling, was precisely the reason he’d approached me for a loan in the first place. Subsequently, it was why Eva was now with me—a fact I would never take for granted. William was an idiot, and it didn’t shock me that he was now forced to sell or declare bankruptcy. Idiot.

  “What about this?” Callum passed me a multi-page dossier. “A foundation here in the states. Four other individuals appeared on this list several times, as well.”

  I skimmed the list of names that he passed to me. Marcella Levieva, Marcus Townsend, Kip Bernhart, and William Jennings. I immediately discounted Sebastian’s girlfriend, Marcella. She was as innocent as they came. William Jennings—Eva’s father—was an interesting one, but not completely unexpected. He and Spencer were good friends, after all, and I’d heard recently that Spencer was helping Eva’s mother, Lillian, to gather support in her campaign to run for governor.

  “Let’s see what we were able to gather on Townsend and Bernhart.” Xavier had included a brief background on each person, and my brows lifted when I read the details. “Interesting. Marcus Townsend owns a bank in Sweden.”

  “He could easily be paving the way for them to transfer money into account, and I would bet that he was getting a decent cut himself,” Callum replied.

  “Entirely possible,” I agreed.

  I flipped the page, and a cold chill slithered down my spine as I read the name of the organization. Helping Hand. I could feel the men’s eyes on me as I read, and I cleared my throat before reading the name aloud. “According to this, the foundation was started several decades ago in an attempt to help women and children in unfortunate situations.”

  And that motherfucker Masterson was taking advantage of the very people it was designed to protect.

  Xavier threw a look my way. “How would that work?”

  “From what I remember, there are fairly strict regulations for foundations.” That being said, I was certain that, with the above men involved, they would find a way around them. I couldn’t begin to imagine the amount of money the foundation would bring in if they were using it as a front for their trafficking business. And it would certainly be easy enough. “If the money is actually coming through here, I woul
d imagine that the buyers could be making payments in the form of donations through Helping Hand to secure a child.”

  Xavier looked as furious as I felt. “We need financial reports.”

  I nodded, mind whirling with possibilities—none of them good. “Find everything you can.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Eva

  My knee jumped impatiently, and my heart raced with anticipation. I couldn't wait to see Rose. It had been almost three months since I’d last seen her, and I was dying to talk to her. A huge smile split my face when Rodrigo pulled up to the curb, and I saw Rose standing outside next to the frosted glass doors of the bar. It took every ounce of patience not to just barrel from the car as I waited for Rodrigo to park, then come around and let me out.

  As much as I wanted to just throw open the door and run to my best friend, I knew Fox would have a conniption fit if I did. He was 100% focused on my safety, and if I didn't follow his every request, he would probably never let me out of his sight again. Rodrigo finally opened the door with a little nod of his head, and I practically threw myself onto the sidewalk.

  Rose caught sight of me, and her eyes widened as she flung her arms wide open for a hug. “It's been forever,” she exclaimed as she squeezed me tight. “How are you?”

  She set me away from her, her gaze sweeping from the top of my head all the way down to my toes and back up again. “You look amazing.”

  “So do you,” I said, linking my arm through hers. “It's been so crazy. I can't wait to tell you all about it.”

  The hostess inside showed us to a quiet booth, and Rose’s bright blue gaze followed Rodrigo’s movement as he took a seat close by where he could keep a close eye on me. Rose’s eyes slid back to mine. “Is he with you?”