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“Wait about ten minutes, man,” Ryan said from the door.

“Thanks,” I said, turning towards him. “I’ll get with you in a few days after things calm down. They have to know something was up tonight.”

“They’re not dumb,” he said.

After Ryan and Rose left, I paced the dusty lobby of the condemned hotel that was too shitty for even the poor bastards running amok in the city.

I have to save her.

CHAPTER 33

Rose

Ryan left before we reached my apartment building. I went inside alone, sending Kim a text message on my way up to the eleventh floor.

Come over. Need to talk, I typed.

The feds were likely listening, but I didn’t care. I had been using the neighbor’s WiFi, so hopefully they didn’t know about my research.

As I found out more about the players involved in the smuggling operation, everything made more sense. Following the money trail had paid off—that was, if they let me get the story out.

A story this big wouldn’t be accepted by many traditional news outlets or blogs like the Huffington Post.

By the time Kim arrived, I had myself worked up, ready to take on the world.

She walked in my apartment, glanced at the printed sheets of paper strewn everywhere, and whistled. “You got some serious Erin Brockovich activity going on in here.”

“Close the door. You haven’t been with Melvin, have you?”

“No. Why?

“You can’t see him again.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” she said, stopping by me as I stared down at the stacks of paper neatly arranged on my glass coffee table.

“Good. He’s a bad man.”

“He’s bad in bed too.” She laughed, still clueless.

“You don’t understand. He’s a criminal. There’s no telling what he’s capable of doing.”

“This is Melvin you’re talking about, right? The guy you set me up with?”

I furrowed my brow. “I am so sorry. If I had known, I never would have recommended it. Can you forgive me?”

“I guess,” she said. “Honestly, I’m still confused.”

“It’s easy. Melvin—and maybe Warren—were involved in a smuggling operation out of Afghanistan.”

Kim’s jaw dropped. “Warren was involved too?”

“Seems like it. From what the FBI said, they’re ready to pardon him.”

“The FBI?” She tilted her head back and stared at me. “You’re putting me on, right?”

“No, I’m serious. I’ve been freaking out. They told me not to get in contact with Warren, but…”

“Let me guess,” she interrupted. “You talked to him anyway?”