Page 81 of Captive Audience

A pause. Then came Torin’s low, menacing reply. “Say that again?”

“That’s why Niall was killed. He found out what was going on.”

“Why didn’t he tell us?”

“He was protecting Catalina.”

Torin sighed.

“I know. I’m pissed about that, too, but”—Rook’s gaze cut to mine—“I can also understand it.”

I rolled my eyes at him, still frustrated that Rook wouldn’t consider letting me use the podcast to lure the Soul Collector to us.

He drummed his fingers on the counter. “Catalina said Los Cuervos ran the border crossings. She came over with a group made up of mainly teen girls. They were forced into prostitution.”

“Los Cuervos.” Torin growled their name like it left a bad taste in his mouth. “Those bastards know we outlawed the skin trade. I made that clear when we took the city.”

“Aye. They know, all right. Which makes me think the Soul Collector is paying them well enough to ignore the risk.”

Torin sighed. “I’ll have to update Brandon about this.”

“Tell him we’ll handle it. We don’t need him and his Zulu mercs starting their own war in Philly.”

“Where are Catalina and the boy now?”

“With us, but I need to move them somewhere safe.”

“My penthouse is empty. I’m at the estate until next week.”

“That works.”

Torin’s tone turned icy. “And the Soul Collector?”

“Asha’s still looking. This intel gives us a fresh connection, something to work with.”

“Good. And Rook?”

“Aye, Boss?”

“Root this shite out and burn it to the ground. I want names and what crew they belong to. And report the fucking body count once you’re done.”

The line went dead, and Rook returned the phone to his pocket.

“He seems…different from the charismatic billionaire I’ve seen on TV.”

Rook nodded. “You don’t want to get on the wrong side of Torin Lynch.”

Torin and Rook’s outrage over the human trafficking ring encouraged me. I couldn’t overlook that they were criminals, but I guessed there was a line in the sand between bad guys who did bad things and really bad guys who did utterly depraved things.

For the first time since this madness had begun, I wondered if maybe the Beasts weren’t the monsters I thought they were.

I just had two questions. “Who’s Brandon? And what’s Zulu?”

“More men you don’t want to get on the wrong side of. Brandon runs a black ops crew that brings down human trafficking rings all around the world. We have a delicate alliance with them. The enemy of our enemies are our friends, or something like that. Zulu doesn’t upset our operations as long as we stay clear of the skin trade. Part of the deal is that we keep our backyard clean, which is fine by us. We’ve never tolerated human trafficking, period. But this current situation breaches our terms. It’s best if we tell Brandon what we know and that we’ll deal with it. If Zulu shows up unannounced to manage the trafficking problem, it makes us look like we’ve lost control, which is bad for business.” Rook folded his arms. “Do you remember the Wolf Street Mafia?”

“Of course. The Italian Mafia had a stranglehold on Philly for decades. They were ousted in a turf war.”

Rook shook his head. “Not a turf war. That was Zulu. They unintentionally created a power vacuum, and we took over. The rest is history.”