by LP Lovell
I smile, despite the ominous air that clings to us both. “Have you made a decision?”
She leans back on the sun lounger, pulling her legs up in front of her. “Not one I’m sure I can live with.”
I move into her line of vision. “I’ll help you live with it.”
She tosses the cigarette to the ground, sending sparks skittering over the decking. “I don’t think even you can save me from this, Rafe.” She looks at me, her eyes full of heartbreak and unshed tears. “Make the deal,” she whispers.
“Okay.” I lean over and kiss her forehead, inhaling the scent of her raspberry shampoo. It reminds me of her, of innocence and light. But she’s not innocent anymore, and I’m not sure how much light will be left by the time this is done.
I glance out of the window of the car, watching, as twenty women are loaded onto one of my cargo planes. My stomach knots and bile creeps up my throat. Carlos stands on the tarmac, overseeing the entire thing. None of us like this, but he’s made his feelings clear. He’s a father. He would do the same thing for his kids. Samuel sits next to me in the driver’s seat, his thumbs tapping erratically over the steering wheel.
“This is wrong, Rafe,” he says.
“Don’t you think I know that?” I snap. His hard gaze meets mine. “There is no easy decision here.”
“You go too far for her.”
“Sam, how many innocents have we killed? How many years have we turned a blind eye to the Sinaloa sex trade?” He says nothing. “Anna pushed to take down the Sinaloa. Anna was the one who made sure those girls were saved.”
“Only to sell them out.”
“Twenty. Twenty are being traded. Hundreds have been pulled from the Sinaloa brothels.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “It’s not right. But they would still be in those brothels if it weren’t for her.”
“They’d have been better off than with the Russians,” he says quietly.
I can’t have this conversation with him anymore. “Tell the pilot to prepare for takeoff,” I say, and open the door, stepping out onto the runway. I walk the other way to where the private jet lingers. Una and Anna are seated side by side, talking in low whispers to each other. Anna has barely spoken to me in these last two days. The only person she seems to interact with is her sister. Una, for all her sins, seems to be helping.
I watch as she strokes Anna’s hair away from her face, and holds her hand. Maybe she can understand this better than anyone because she is a mother.
“You okay?” I ask Anna.
She nods. “Yes. Let’s go.”
I nod at Samuel, and they start preparing for takeoff.
The flight is quiet, but by the time we land, the tension is palpable, not only from Anna but all my men. None of them like this. I’ve only brought my most trusted guys for this very reason. I know they will follow my orders regardless of their own opinions.
The cargo plane lands an hour after us, and the girls are moved into a truck. Anna watches on, refusing to look away, as though to force the torture upon herself. Una finally tugs her in the other direction. We’ve already agreed that Anna won’t be at the trade. She’s too emotionally invested, and I don’t want to risk Dimitri seeing a weakness. I need this to go smoothly.
Una glances at me, and nods once, before ducking inside a low sports car. Anna peers through the window, offering me a sad smile before they pull away in a cloud of squealing tire smoke.
“Okay, let’s go,” I say, hopping into the passenger side of an SUV. Samuel drives. Carlos and Lucas sit in the back. The rest of the men are guarding the truck. I don’t trust Dimitri not to try and shaft me on this somehow.
The closer we get to the Elite compound, the more isolated it becomes, until houses are spaced miles apart rather than feet. The roads are flanked by dense forest for as far as the eye can see, and the green canopies give way to endless gray skies.
Finally, the road breaks, giving way to a track. From a mile away, I can see the perimeter fence, topped with floodlights that are blinding even from here. I know the base well, but only from blueprints. I spent hours studying them when Anna was brought here, looking for a way in, a breach, a weakness. And I know there is none, which is why this trade is happening.
We roll up to the gate, and armed guards check over the vehicles before waving us through. What looks like a massive reinforced steel door opens, and a man steps out, leading six others. All dressed in black, all armed to the teeth. Elite soldiers.
I get out of the car, and Samuel and Carlos follow suit, falling in beside me.
“Rafael D’Cruze,” the man says in his heavy Russian accent.
“Where is Dimitri?”
“The boss could not be here.”
I clench my jaw at the insult. He makes me trade twenty women, and he doesn’t even come in person. “I want to see the child.”
He tilts his head to the side in that predatory way that all the Elite seem to have. “I have orders to check the stock first.” Stock. I inhale a deep breath, clenching my fist tight enough that my knuckles audibly crack.
I step back and gesture to the truck. “They don’t leave that truck until I see the child,” I say. The man eyes me coldly before passing by and glancing into the back of the truck. “Bring the child,” he orders one of his men. He disappears back inside the concrete-walled compound they came from, and a few seconds later he brings a woman out. She’s holding a child, bundled in blankets and clutched to her chest. She looks like some kind of nanny.
I step forward, and she hands the baby to me, her expression devoid of anything. I glance down at the tiny baby, and my heart falters for a second. Bright blue eyes, the exact same shade as Anna’s, meet mine. Her lips are a perfect pink cupids bow, slightly parted as she stares at me with an awareness a baby so young should not have. I stroke a hand over the fine layer of downy gold hair on her head before tearing my gaze away. I turn to Carlos and hand him the child.
“Take her. Leave.” He nods sternly, taking the tiny bundle from me and striding back towards the car. He gets in, and I watch him pass the baby to Lucas before he reverses and floors it out of the compound. The Elite soldiers start unloading the women. I swallow heavily and step back, watching them get walked, one by one, from the truck.
I try not to see their faces, but it’s so hard, and the worst part is the resignation. They don’t look angry, or even sad, simply accepting. And I hate myself for letting this happen. I watch as the last girl steps off the truck, just as the first one reaches the door to the compound. She turns, glancing over her shoulder. Our gazes crash, and there’s a moment, an exhaled breath, a thundering heartbeat. I feel the judgment in her dark eyes, and I take an involuntary step forward as though I can save her from this fate. I blink, and when I open my eyes, hers are wide. She sways and then drops. It takes my mind a second to catch up, to acknowledge the familiar cracking of bullets splitting the air in quick succession. Several women drop to the ground, and then a bullet hits the front of the truck barely inches from me.
“Fuck!” Samuel grabs my arm and drags me into the truck, shoving me in the back before he follows. The wheels spin and the vehicle pitches and lurches to the side as bullets hit the bodywork. We floor it out of the gate, and I look out the open back of the truck at the sea of fallen bodies we leave behind. Elite are scrambling to return fire, but it’s obvious they’re firing blind. Those weren’t short-range shots, they were sniper rifles.
27
Anna
“Get ready,” Una breathes. “Just one more.”
I inhale a deep breath, my finger trembling slightly as it lingers over the trigger. I stare down the sights of the rifle, seeing Rafael in the crosshairs. Samuel lingers beside him, ready to grab him as we discussed.
“Now,” Una barely whispers. Without hesitation, her and Sasha start firing in rapid succession. I watch woman after woman fall to their bullets, and my heart breaks. On a deep breath, I move my rifle half an inch, lining up a girl who has dropped to the floor in ter
ror. I blink, and tears leave the corners of my eyes as I squeeze the trigger. I watch her die at my hand, but instead of lingering, I move onto the next and the next. I sold them to this fate, and I know that death is a salvation from the things that will happen to them behind that door. It’s not fair. It’s not righteous. It’s murder, pure and simple. The lesser of two evils. Both of which I’ve inflicted on them. With every bullet, I feel little bits of my soul withering and dying, screaming in agony as they’re torn from my body. They’re abandoning a sinking vessel, escaping the darkness that has consumed me so entirely. I’m no longer a savior or oppressor. I’m worse. I’m death disguised as a miracle, and I’ve betrayed them.
Finally, the bullets stop and my ears ring. The ragged sounds of my own breaths are all I hear for a moment before a high-pitched keening starts. It’s the sound of agony, of an inhuman form of torture. Una’s arms come around me, and she pulls me to her chest, whispering words in my ear. And all the time, that horrible, broken noise emanates from my body uncontrollably.
“Shhh, it’s okay,” Una chokes, her hand stroking over my hair. “It’s okay. You did the only thing you could.”
“We need to move,” Sahsa murmurs quietly.
I check out then, their words nothing but background noise to the deafening static crackling around my brain. I’m picked up off the floor and held against a firm chest. I don’t register the journey back to the airfield. I walk numbly onto the plane, my legs acting on autopilot without conscious thought.
I’m vaguely aware of Una talking to Rafael, and then she’s kneeling in front of me, forcing me to look at her. “This is where I leave you. I have to go back to New York. To Dante.” She smiles softly. “Rafael will look after you, and your baby.” My baby. Standing up, she kisses my forehead and turns away, leaving me to my numb state. I can feel the darkness right there, beckoning to me. I usually try so hard to resist it, but right now I can’t. It’s too alluring, too tempting to turn down because this is a pain I’ve never felt. Guilt. Deep dark, loathsome guilt, laced with a hatred that’s festering away at my very core. And I can’t bear it. I allow that sweet promise of freedom to caress the edges of my mind, lulling me into a sense of peace and acceptance.
“Anna?” Rafael takes the seat next to me and grabs my jaw, roughly forcing me to look at him. “Do not do this,” he half pleads, half snaps.
“Just for a little while,” I tell him, though the words feel hollow and absent as they leave my mouth.
“Shit!” He slams his palm on the table. Sitting back in my seat, I close my eyes, and I just drown it all out. Every single thing.
I jolt awake at the sound of something. Blinking my eyes open, I glance around the room. Rafael’s room. In the mansion. I frown as I try to remember how I got here, but my thoughts are interrupted by that sound. High pitched, somewhere between a cry and a shriek. My heart seizes as it reaches my ears, and I find myself sliding out of bed, mutely following it out of the room and down the hall. I stop outside the next bedroom along and slowly turn the doorknob. The door glides open, the hinges creaking slightly as it reveals a room with a simple white crib in the middle. White gauzy curtains catch on the breeze coming from the open balcony door, billowing around the crib. Another high-pitched cry, and this time, I rush forward, gripping the railing. Peering inside, I’m met with a pair of wide, tear-filled blue eyes. Her cries are like a dagger to my heart.
“Shh, it’s okay,” I whisper, sliding my hands beneath the baby and scooping her up. She quiets slightly, and we stare at each other. Una was right—this can’t be explained. As I look at her, it’s like everything suddenly sharpens. All the things that were once blurry are now crystal clear. Everything that came before this moment falls into the background, and my past no longer matters. Only this. Only her. I clutch her to me, and her little face rests against my throat. I inhale the scent of her downy hair and my heart thuds erratically as though it might tear right out of my chest. The warmth of her tiny body seeps into me, chasing away the icy cold that seems to have taken up residence inside me. I know her. We’ve never met. She could be any baby, but something in me just knows she is mine. The storm of my emotions calms into a sea of serenity, as though she’s centering me—my own personal anchor. “It’s okay now.”
She slowly starts to quiet as I rock her back and forth. I move over to the rocking chair in the corner, and it’s then that I notice the room. It isn’t just a room that’s had a crib put in it. It’s been decorated. The walls are a soft yellow with daisies painted on them in places. All the furniture, the curtains, the rocking chair…this is all new. Rafael had this brought in here. For her. For me.
When she finally falls asleep, I shift her into my arms, just so that I can look at her. Long lashes fan over her soft cheeks and her tiny mouth falls open as she breathes softly. So precious. So unaware. She has no idea the feats I have gone to just to hold her like this, just to know her, and I realize that here, right now, with her in my arms, I wouldn’t change it. How could I?
“It suits you, avecita.” I look up at the sound of Rafael’s voice. He’s leaning against the doorframe, his thick arms folded over his chest. I didn’t think it was possible for me to love Rafael any more than I did before all this—before we were broken, but as I look at him, knowing the lengths he has gone to, to bring my child to me, how can I not? My heart skips a beat when he pushes off the doorframe and moves closer.
“Thank you. For bringing her to me,” I whisper.
“You didn’t tell me,” he says, and I say nothing. “You could have told me what you were going to do.”
“I couldn’t.”
“Anna…”
“I couldn’t bear to see the disgust on your face,” I say on a strangled breath.
He walks over and presses a finger beneath my chin, forcing me to look up at him towering over me. “It was a mercy, little warrior.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting the wave of crippling guilt. “It was murder, Rafe.”
He shakes his head. “If it were you, would you rather have been turned over to them, or died?”
“I’d rather die than let another man touch me against my will again.”
“Mercy.” He strokes his thumb over my jaw and glances down at my sleeping baby. “She looks just like you.”
“You made this nursery for her. Why?” I ask.
He tilts his head to the side. “Doesn’t a baby need a nursery?”
I chew the inside of my lip and hold her a little tighter. “She’s not yours, Rafe,” I whisper. His expression falls slightly, and I reach out, grabbing a handful of his shirt and tugging him down until he’s on his knees in front of me. I cup his cheek, scratching my nails over the stubble. “I wish she was. More than anything. But she’s not. You don’t owe us anything.”
He laughs and turns his face, kissing my palm. “Avecita, is that what you think? That I believe I owe you something?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. This is all so messed up, Rafe. None of this is supposed to happen like this.”
“You have my love. Always. Yes, you have a child you should never have been able to have. That’s a blessing.” He kisses the inside of my wrist. “How many times do we have to do this before you finally realize, avecita?”
“Realize what?”
He kisses up my arm, his teeth scraping over my skin. “That you are mine. Every part of you. Including her.” He gently brushes his fingers over her hair and my chest flutters.
“Be sure that you mean that, Rafe.”
He laughs. “Little warrior, it’s never changed. Not since the day I took you from that dirty bar.” He grasps my face is both hands and kisses me. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. And now her.”
“I love you,” I breathe against his lips.
“I love you too, little warrior.” I smile, because for the first time ever, I feel complete. Safe. Loved. It’s all over-shadowed by the lingering sense of guilt in the pit of my stomach, but honestly, I’m not
sure that will ever go away. And it shouldn’t. I should carry the weight of those girls’ deaths to my grave. That is the choice I made. Even if I wouldn’t take it back. “What are you going to call her?” Rafael asks.
I glance down at her sleeping peacefully. Rafael places his large tattooed hand on her chest, his tanned, tattooed skin contrasting wildly with the milky purity of hers.
“Violet,” I whisper. I hear his breath audibly hitch and his hand still against her chest.
“Violet,” he breathes, placing a kiss on her head. “I won’t let you down,” he vows.
Epilogue
One month later
Warm breath rushes over my back, followed by the feather-light brush of a kiss. Groaning, I roll over, trying to cling to just a few seconds more of precious sleep. Violet was up all night, and I feel like a zombie.
“Avecita,” Rafe breathes against my neck before raking his teeth over my skin. I shiver and smile.
“What time is it?” I ask.
“Early.”
I flip onto my back and blink my eyes open, looking up at him. “What’s wrong? Are you going somewhere?”
He smiles. “No. We are.”
“What?” My brain can’t function right now.
“Get dressed, little warrior. Wear something nice.” He kisses my forehead and stands. I sit up, clutching the sheet to my chest as I watch him walk out. What is he doing?
After I’ve showered, I put on a pale pink summer dress and some sandals. I leave the room and move through the house, looking for everyone else, but aside from the security, the house seems strangely silent. The guys bantering in the kitchen, Bella cooking over the stove…it’s all absent. I start to get edgy, but then I find Rafael in the foyer. Waiting.
“What’s going on? Where is everyone? Where’s Violet?”
He smiles and places his hand around the back of my neck, pulling me close. “You look beautiful.”