by Trisha Wolfe
I want to see all of her.
Avery’s eyes flick up and latch on to my gaze. “With the mask, I think this will work,” she says. “No one there should recognize me.”
Alexis glances between us and, noticing the tension, assesses Avery quickly before she decides it’s all right to leave her side. “I’ll go check on how Carson’s doing. We’ll go over a couple more things before it’s time.”
“Thank you,” I say to her as she starts to walk off, and she returns my leaden gratitude with a tight smile. As Avery is determined to do this, at least it seems she’s getting instructions that will keep her safe.
And I’ll be right here, on the other side of the monitor, just minutes away should anything go wrong.
Still… “You don’t have to do this,” I say. “There’s still time to inform the Feds.”
She shakes her head, her soft, newly dyed tresses whispering over her creamy shoulders. My throat constricts. “We can’t chance that something will go wrong, that the Alpha would be alerted. If the auction doesn’t happen as planned, we might not get the chance to find him again.”
She’s right. I could retrieve the phone Special Agent Bell gave me right now; it’s a trigger ready to be pulled. But at what cost? Those women’s lives? Avery’s? When we apprehend the Alpha and his accomplices, it will not be in The Firm.
I can’t risk the Feds rushing in and blowing this op.
“I know this is the last place you want to be.” She reaches out, but drops her hand just as fast. “But thank you. I feel better…safer knowing you’ll be watching. Even if…”
I take her hand in mine, trace my thumb over her wrist. “Even if tomorrow I have to start an investigation into Wells?”
She flinches, but doesn’t pull away. I’m an asshole for saying his name so nonchalantly, like it doesn’t effect her. Like he’s not the sick fuck who tortured her…nearly killed her. A real man would be livid that he didn’t kill the fucker himself.
Am I less than a real man? Because I haven’t thanked Sadie for wiping his fucking sadistic existence off the face of the planet? If so, I guess it’s one more thing I’ll have to come to terms with in my later years.
“Exactly,” she finally says. “And I’m not worried, Quinn. I know you’ll have to do the right thing, and I’m ready to face that.”
Her letter rests heavily in my inseam pocket, pressed like a weight against my chest. “Let’s get through tonight first,” is all I can say.
She’s quick to nod. “Okay. But there’s something else you need to know.”
My stomach rocks at her words. I’m not sure I can handle any more confessions.
“We discovered a print on the fifth victim today,” she says, jumping straight in. “The print was sent to the techs to run a search, but I knew…I just knew.” She releases a strained breath and steals her hand away from mine. “It’s Price Wells’ fingerprint. I’m not sure how the Alpha got it, but it was planted on the body.”
I’m correlating too many theories at once, none of them obvious as to why the Alpha would bring Wells into the picture. Except one: “The Alpha knows.”
Her eyes glisten with the reflection of low monitor light. “The masked man who took me. Yes. He knew. I now believe he was the same person who contacted me on the forum…but I didn’t do what he demanded. I changed the COD reports on the vics, stating they weren’t accidents. I was told if I didn’t cooperate, that they’d make it known what I did…” She trails off.
And that’s ultimately why she’s putting herself at risk. She feels responsible for those women—that her actions somehow resulted in their fate. I’m no damn psychologist, but I’m sure it’s some form of misplaced guilt; her darknet activity was not the catalyst. And her doctoring Wells’ COD report is not to blame.
The people behind the crimes are.
Piecing together how this criminal network has any connection to Wells will take time. More time than I have this instant. There’s too many questions that need answers. But I only have one for Avery. “Is this why you’re doing this tonight?” I hold her gaze. “To silence the Alpha.”
Her features twist into an incensed expression. “No. Of course not. If that were the case, I’d have left the COD reports alone. I’d have never told you the truth.”
The vise compressing my chest loosens a fraction. “All right.”
She blinks, a stunned expression wiping away her anger.
For what it’s worth, I believe her. Until Avery was abducted and her whole world consumed with fear and pain, she was the most professional, moral person I knew. She still is... Only I’m not sure how much of Sadie’s influence is responsible for her actions.
Fuck it all to hell. I’ve come this far—I’ll see this through. I have no other choice.
“Don’t think about the fingerprint or Wells or anything else while you’re in there.” I clasp her face, stare into her dark gaze. “Just focus on keeping yourself safe.”
She swallows, and I feel the force of it pulse against my fingers. Her lips part, her breath hot against my skin, but before she’s able to voice her thoughts, we’re interrupted.
With effort, I pull back as Carson and Larkin enter the conference room. Carson is decked out in an expensive suit, with a label I doubt I’d recognize. Larkin looks smug, proud of his transformation of the rookie into an entrepreneur of human slave acquiring.
“Real nice,” I say as Carson adjusts his tie. “You’ll fit right in—” I eye Larkin “—with the rest of the deviant pervs.”
The lawyer’s not thrown by my comment. He actually smiles, brushing off my sarcasm like he brushes off his designer suit. “Your detective cleans up well. And I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Alexis reenters and begins briefing both Carson and Avery on more of the nuances and etiquette of the club, and I find Sadie and Colton checking the surveillance equipment. Seems to me they should be in on the prep work.
When Carson steps away from the group, I’m there to intercept him. I brace a hand on the back of his neck and pull him in close. “It should go without saying, but I’m going to make it real fucking clear.” I grip his neck. “Avery doesn’t get hurt. Not a scratch. Not a bruise. Not one finger—from anyone—touches her. Are we clear?”
He gives his head a nod against my hold. “Crystal, boss.”
I smack the back of his head. “I know you’ll keep her safe,” I say, leaving the rest unsaid of what will happen if he doesn’t. I think we’re on the same page.
I’ve about got myself composed when a blond man enters the room, and my hackles rise. “This op was supposed to be strictly confidential. Who’s that?”
Colton steps forward. “My roommate.”
“And my personal driver,” Larkin follows up. “Who I trust to keep this secret. We need another ally to make this work, and I can vouch for Jefferson.”
Vouch. One snake vouching for another. Mother fuckers. Of course they’d all be connected. The underground world of BDSM and fetishes…swapping out partners and roommates and drivers. I glance at Sadie with raised eyebrows. This stinks of something foul, and I don’t like it.
“I wasn’t actually aware that Jefferson worked for Larkin until just recently,” Sadie says, as if she’s reading my mind. “Neither was Colton. It’s as much a surprise to us, but we do need another person, Quinn. Just in case.”
Just in case Larkin decides to pull something while in The Firm, to make sure he has a man of his own here to carry out instructions. Check. Keep the status quo.
Soon as this is done, and I have one moment of peace, I’m launching a full-scale investigation into every last one of them. I’m going to map out this law firm and uncover every dirty secret and deed.
As they get Jefferson set up before a monitor, I feel the press of a hand in mine. The sudden caress startles me, and I look over at Avery. “Maybe one day, when this is over…” she says. She places a tender kiss to my knuckles. They’re still scratched and bruised from pounding my fist
into one of the perps. “Then you’ll look at me the way you did before.”
She’s gone before I can reply, taking the air in my lungs with her. But her message is clear: maybe one day this will be behind us and we’ll have another chance. I swallow down the burning ache, pushing it into the pit of my gut.
Putting my head in the game, I watch everything closely. Sadie places a tiny earbud in Avery’s ear. Alexis fastens a collar around Avery’s neck that houses a camera. Colton and Larkin take these same measures with Carson, making sure his virtually invisible surveillance pieces are in place and operational.
This is our eyes and ears into The Firm.
This is my only connection to Avery.
Once they’re ready, I move to the hallway and watch Avery meet Carson, Larkin, and Alexis at the elevator. Avery steps inside the elevator car and turns, her eyes seeking mine. She doesn’t look away. She stays with me until the silver doors close, then she’s gone.
15
The Firm
Avery
The limo pulls to a stop before the Skylark Hotel. It’s beautiful and graceful with a slim, soaring tower, and not at all what I expected.
I duck my head to stare out of the tinted window, my gaze following the many reflective floors shimmering with city lights to the top.
“I felt the same way when I first saw it,” Alexis says.
I glance at her. “Surprised?”
She smiles. “Completely. Not what you expected, is it?”
I shake my head to confirm that this is nothing like what I pictured while I was being prepped to enter as a member into a secret sex society. A hiss of static erupts in my ear, then Quinn’s voice announces he’s testing the connection.
Larkin places a finger to his ear. “We hear you, detective. Now, please don’t monopolize the feed. It will be difficult enough without a cop in all our ears.”
“It’s not too late to call this off and take a different route,” Quinn says. I can hear the urgency in his voice, and I admit, staring at the hotel, uncertain about what’s within…what comes next…I almost agree to do just that.
“Do you want to catch the minnow or the big fish?” Larkin asks, directing his question to the man on the other end of the feed. “You yourself said if the FBI enters the picture, they’ll storm in all halfcocked.”
A moment of tense silence. Then: “You better be sure, Larkin.” A beat. “I want nothing less than to collar the head of this criminal network. Tonight,” Quinn adds.
Larkin looks around the cab of the limo, capturing each of our gazes. “Collar? As much as I enjoy cop jargon, let’s be clear.” He snaps his fingers, and the driver opens Larkin’s door. He steps out and straightens his tie. “Collaring means something entirely different in this world, detective.”
With that, Larkin extends his hand and helps Alexis from the limo. Carson settles his hand over mine on my knee, and I look up. “It’s all right to be nervous,” he says.
“Are you?”
His hollow laugh fills the car. “I’m taking you into The Firm, with Quinn watching my every move. Nervous is a strong understatement.”
My face flushes. Carson’s a detective, so of course he’s detected the tension between Quinn and I. We’re more than obvious to anyone who looks close enough.
“Hey,” he says, gripping my hand reassuringly. “Remember, if it becomes too much, if there’re any triggers, just say the word.”
“Lemon,” I say, and he smiles. Like a safe word, it’s the signal for us to pull out of the op. If I so much as utter it, Quinn will get me out.
“Avery, it’s highly unlikely we’ll come face-to-face with the Alpha in there.” He nods toward the Skylark. “We’re just playing a role. Gathering intel.”
I nod once, and then our door is opened. Carson steps out, mimicking Larkin as he reaches in to take my hand. I allow him to pull me from the limo and I do as instructed, acknowledging Carson as my Master. I bow my head and walk behind him.
Keeping Carson’s reassurance tucked close, I put one strappy heel in front of the other. The Alpha won’t reveal himself here. No, like all filth that dwells below the radar, the Alpha will watch the transactions from afar, until he’s assured the deals are complete. Then, his accomplices will lead us right to the bastard.
That’s when the second half of our party will take over the operation. Quinn fears my part, but going into The Firm is far less dangerous than his job. An ache fills my chest. I trust him, and I trust that he’s the best—he’ll be safe.
The foyer of the hotel smells of gardenias, the flowers displayed in tall vases throughout the pristine entry. I keep my head bowed as we enter an elevator, and as soon as Larkin opens the panel to select the penthouse floor, the car bounds upward. My stomach tingles from the sudden motion.
“Here.” Alexis turns toward me and presents a black satin mask. It’s been deliberately selected because it covers most of my face. As she slips it over my head and arranges it on my eyes, she leans in close and whispers into the ear without the earpiece. “Don’t be ashamed if you discover you enjoy being possessed. Only be ashamed if you deny yourself a chance to explore this side of yourself.”
My heart thunders to life, and I’m intently focused on my breathing. She pulls away and drags my hair over my shoulders, looking me over. “There. Now you’re ready.”
I’m not given another second to ponder her words as the elevator doors open to the penthouse. I’m thrust forward on sheer exhilaration, adrenaline blistering my veins, as I somehow find the courage to step forward.
Low, bass-filled music pulses within the room. The beat strikes my chest at the same time my senses are assaulted with every other sensation. The flicker of candles, the scent of floral incense. It’s impossible to keep my head bowed when I’m so tempted to look around.
From what I can discern, it’s not crowded; Larkin and Alexis stated it wouldn’t be—that these are not the masked faces of the regular members. These are the meticulously vetted and chosen buyers for the auction. The Alpha’s special selection.
Which means these are some of the most vile, corrupt men in all of the Virginia and DC area, if not the world. I wonder how many are politicians.
The walls are painted a deep red and black. Sheer material is draped between lounging spaces. Thick beams further separate the sections. And along the walls, bondage gear. Ropes. Chains. Toys. A room decorated to cater to any BDSM fantasy.
I stay a foot behind Carson as we weave through the throng gathered in the middle. I can’t help it; I peek up to witness Larkin step onto a platform and lift his hands to quiet the chatter before I stare back down at the lacquered floor.
He’s donned a mask, as well as Alexis, who stands just below him. Every person here wears some form of cover to conceal his or her identity. It won’t matter. That won’t protect them. Every single body in this penthouse is, as I stand here, being identified and marked by Quinn and Sadie in the surveillance room set up at Lark and Gannet.
The list of names Larkin gave Quinn of the buyers was the trade-off for our cooperation on this operation.
“Sirs and madams,” Larkin says, and the room quiets further to hear his speech. “I welcome you to the first ever Firm Auction.” Light applause trickles through the room. Carson only hesitates a moment before he joins in. “Before the auction begins, please indulge in the festivities we’ve arranged for this evening. It’s never ideal to purchase on impulse, so fill your gluttonous desires.” A short burst of laughter erupts. “Enjoy.”
Pressure beats at my temples. This is our cue to move to the voyeur section. Even though I’ve been prepped, the knowledge of what’s about to commence jacks my heart rate.
Carson slips his arm through mine and guides me toward the lounging area. Larkin made sure we understood the dynamics of the penthouse, and we ease into the scene without garnering any unwanted attention.
I let Carson seat me on a spacious velvet couch, relieved to be in the safest area of the penthouse. So f
ar, everything has gone according to plan. As Carson takes his spot beside me, accepting a flute of champagne from a hostess serving drinks, the room becomes a living force.
The music heightens, the lights dim, and from the other side of the room, in walks the most beautiful, exotic women I’ve ever seen. They’re clad only in silver masks. Their gorgeous, naked bodies shimmer with a metallic gloss, illuminating their skin and plunging this scene into an ethereal realm.
Each woman takes up a post near one of the suited men. I’ve counted around ten men—buyers—so far. Some have brought their subs or slaves…or maybe even their wives along with them. I’m not sure how this works, what the parameters are—how one goes about purchasing another human being. But I don’t have time to speculate as one of the breathtaking vixens approaches us.
I can almost hear Carson gulp his champagne as she stops right in front of him.
“Hello, Master. My name is Tanja.” Her voice is a tinkle soft chime. “I’m your gift tonight. How can I service you?”
We, however, were not warned about this development. And for all Carson’s coaching, he’s barely able to keep his stoic expression in place. I spot Larkin near the platform, and he raises his champagne glass in our direction. A knowing smile spreads across his face. Bastard.
Carson clears his throat, sets the flute on the floor to his right. “My angel and I like to watch,” he says, pressing back into the couch. “That is, of course, why we’re in the voyeurs’ section.”
Her smile sets her soft features aglow behind the mask. “Your wish is my command, Master.” She beckons with a curl of her finger, and another woman saunters over from across the room. She’s trailed by a tall, leanly built man in a black suit. My chest constricts. This was not a part of the program. And what’s worse, despite his mask, I recognize him as Larkin’s named partner. Mike Gannet.