by Mazzy King
The servers all wear black, long-sleeved button-ups and black slacks, so it wasn’t hard to find the same clothing items even if mine are slightly different. My plan tonight? Well. I don’t really have one, other than to locate my sister and get her the fuck out. I’m not sure what Connor and the cops are planning, but he mentioned something about a raid. Raids usually involve guns, my TV-watching has taught me, and I want to get Lucy as far away from that as possible.
The abducted women are being held in a room until the auction begins at eleven. It’s ten thirty now, which means time is running out. El told me where the room was located and sent me another set of blueprints for this compound. It still blows my mind how she knows all of this, but I’m not about to question her when time is running out.
When the crowd is thick, I slip away into a corridor that should lead in the direction I need to go. No one seems to have noticed me, and the hallway appears to be empty. I steal down the hall. Just as I pass by a closed door labeled “Supplies,” it swings open, and hands grab me, then haul me in. One hand wraps around my mouth to cut off my startled scream.
“It’s me!” a voice whispers harshly. “Sierra, calm down.”
Connor. I sag with relief against him. “What’re you doing here? How did you know where to find me?”
“I snuck in. And we have mutual friends,” he says. “Harbinger.”
Someday, he and I are going to sit down and hash out exactly how we both know Harbinger but now’s not the time.
“We need to get out of here,” he continues. “You have no idea how dangerous this is.”
“No!” I pull away. “Connor, I’m this close to getting my sister back. You’re out of your mind if you think I’m turning back now.”
“Sierra, listen to me. There are a lot of assholes with guns in this building. The cops let me come in just to find you. It’s about to get crazy.”
Tears come to my eyes. “I can’t let her get away from me this time. I can’t let them take her again.”
“They won’t.” He takes my shoulders gently. “But we have to let the pros handle this, okay? They know what they’re doing.”
I let out a long, shaky sigh. “Okay.”
He strokes my cheek. “Come on. Let’s—”
The door suddenly flies open, and I blink as a long, black barrel of a gun I can’t name other than “huge” is aimed at my face.
The same security guard from two weeks ago smiles at us. “Well. Hello there.”
Connor
“My, how you’ve changed,” the guard says to Sierra, referencing her black hair. “I must say, I prefer you as a blonde.”
“We, um . . .”
“What, fooling around again?” the guard sneers, then grabs Sierra by her arm and yanks her out. “It’s come to our attention that you bear a striking resemblance to one of our girls. In fact—”
He lets the gun fall to his side, where it’s connected to a sling and grabs Sierra’s arm with one hand. With the other, he shoves up the sleeve of her black dress shirt, breaking the buttons. Two Chinese characters are tattooed inside her wrist.
The guard nods, grinning. “The same tattoo that our lovely Lucy has. You’re her sister, aren’t you?”
“Let her go,” Sierra says through her teeth, voice shaking.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible. You see, she’s just been purchased by a Swiss businessman.”
Sierra lets out a low moan, and my stomach churns.
The guard shrugs with mock sadness, then brightens, snapping his fingers. “You know what. I can’t bring her to you, but I can bring you to her.” He scans her body obviously. “You’re nice and curvy, where she’s on the slender side. I think our Swiss banker friend would love a selection to choose from.”
My fists clench at my side. Over my dead body.
Shit. If the next few minutes don’t happen in my favor, that could very well be a reality.
The detectives I worked with several months ago put me through pretty fucking rigorous training, and almost reflexively, my muscles tense like I’m gearing up for a fight.
Which I am.
Sierra tries to pull away. The guard uses both hands to grab her and pull her closer.
Then I lunge.
I wind my forearm around his throat, pressing hard, and Sierra keeps the gun away from him as he struggles. But he soon passes out—just as the sound of loud shouting meets our ears.
RCPD has arrived.
Not knowing what to do, I drag the unconscious guard into the storage room and shut the door, then grab the rifle and Sierra’s arm. “Come on!”
“Not until I find her,” she pleads, then points down the hall. “My contact said the holding room is this way.”
“She might not even be there, Sierra,” I implore.
“I have to look.” With that, she takes off down the hall, and I can’t do anything but follow her, holding the rifle.
Sierra seems to know exactly where she’s going. I follow her around corners until I’ve forgotten the way back, but then she stops at the door at the end of a hallway. It’s the only option, and with a shaking breath, she pushes it open.
The room is dark. I fumble along the wall for a switch.
Soft murmurs and gasps fill the room as dozens of disoriented, terrified-looking women blink at us. They’re dressed in lingerie again, fully made up—sitting in the dark.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter. Immediately, I whip out my phone to text my contact, a special victims unit sergeant, and let her know where we are—and who we’ve found. She replies that she’ll be right there.
“Lucy?” Sierra calls, her voice cracking as she scans the room. She reaches up to pull off the black wig, her long blonde hair tumbling free. “Lucy!”
At the back of the room, a thin blonde woman in a black negligee rises from the floor on wobbly legs. “Sierra?” she gasps.
Sobbing, Lucy rushes across the room to throw her arms around her sister. A lump forms in my throat, watching them, and my heart is both full of joy and sorrow. How could someone do this to other human beings?
“You’re going to be all right,” Sierra promises her wailing sister, rocking her. She turns to the room. “You’re all going to be all right!”
At that moment, the sergeant I texted arrives with a squad full of medics and a couple more detectives in tow. She informs us a raid has been conducted, and that all people on the premises have been arrested—including the Mortensons.
At this news, the captive women burst into tears.
The medics begin making the rounds. Sierra doesn’t leave her sister’s side.
The sergeant wanders over to me. She was the one this morning in charge of organizing the strategy for today. She’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever talked to, and passionate about rescuing these women.
“Good work, Cavanaugh,” she says, shaking my hand. “You did an outstanding job, compiling the intel that allowed us to complete the mission.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” I say, “but I didn’t do it alone. I had help.”
“Who’s that?”
I glance across the room, where Sierra is wrapping a blanket around her sister’s shoulders. “An incredibly brave, strong woman.”
The sergeant follows my gaze and smiles. “Well, I look forward to meeting her soon. I’d like to thank her in person.” She pats my arm, then begins making her way through the room to speak to the women as the medics tend to them.
I watch Sierra but remain by the door. This is the moment she’s been waiting for since her sister went missing, and I don’t want to intrude.
After all, she and I have all the time in the world.
She catches my gaze from across the room.
I love you, I mouth.
She smiles. I love you.
Epilogue
Connor
One year later
I help my very pregnant wife up the stairs and into the Robinsons’ home, where Khalil and his wife Elodie are hosting a get-tog
ether. The only other person I know at this part is Tristan Black, the man who saved my life and who introduced me to the Program.
“Hey, you two,” Khalil says with a grin, coming to greet us. “Sierra, how’s it going?”
She huffs. “One more month to go. I’m trying not to kill anyone.”
He laughs. “That’s the spirit.”
We’ve gotten close with Khalil and Elodie. As it turns out, Elodie was Sierra’s contact the whole time. They’ve since retired the Harbinger network, now that they’re newlyweds and have a baby on the way too. But helping us break the trafficking case was a high note for Harbinger to go out on. They used their contacts to get Lucy an incredible lawyer to press charges against the Mortensons, and she’s doing fantastic. She’s in the best therapy available, and she’s pursuing her passions, including writing. To date, she’s now published half a dozen books, including an incredibly brave memoir about her experience being trafficked. She goes around the country for speaking engagements and is dedicated to working as an advocate for other survivors. Best of all, she and Sierra are closer than ever and see each other several times a week. Lucy’s going to be an amazing aunt to our daughter.
There’s a bunch of other couples milling around the backyard. Khalil introduces us to them all. Tommy and Aggie O’Brien. Aidan and Stella Kelly. Colin and Hendrix Leary. Ryan and Gemma Walsh. Then I find out that in a very odd way, I do know these guys without actually knowing them. We’re brothers, in a way.
We were all Recruits.
All of us had a bad hand dealt to us in some way or another, whether it was of our own making and a result of our poor choices, or by circumstance. And we all got another chance.
We’ve all moved on from the Program. Tommy, Aidan, and Colin ended up joining RCPD, and all graduated from the academy six months ago. Khalil is still kicking ass as a firefighter. Ryan and Tristan opted for a non-law enforcement lifestyle after their stint in the Program, working in their family auto—and motorcycle—repair business.
As for me?
I went back and finished the college degree I let linger from a couple of years ago. I majored in criminal justice back then, found it laughable, and dropped out.
Now, it feels right. And I start the next RCPD academy class two months from now, in September. Yep, me, a former illegal street racer and general loser—going to take up the shield. Going to make a difference. Going to protect and serve.
The bond between us seven former Recruits is instantaneous. I don’t have a lot of friends, and that’s okay. Now I have six brothers.
Later, when Sierra and I return home, I help her sit down then make us a couple of bowls of ice cream. She smiles at me, licking Rocky Road off her spoon.
“What?” I ask, smiling back.
“I’m proud of you,” she says and leans across the table to kiss me.
“Thank you, babe.” I stroke her cheek. “I couldn’t have done any of it without you, you know. And I think all the guys would agree—you ladies are the ones who keep us going. Who keep us strong.”
“You know what they say,” she says, placing her foot in my lap and wiggling her toes. It’s her way of asking me for a foot massage. “Behind every strong man is a stronger woman, rolling her eyes.”
I chuckle, rubbing the arch of her foot. “I couldn’t consider myself luckier. I love you.”
She grins. “Do you love-love me like I love-love you?”
I grin back. “Forever, beautiful.”
The End
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