Page 97 of Freeing Denver

I lean against her desk but nod at the chair in front of it. “Sit.”

“You can’t do this,” she snaps. “You can’t just?—”

“Sit, or I’ll make you fucking sit.”

Dr. Shannon huffs, yanking her arm free of Taf’s hold, and takes a seat. She smooths her hair back and straightens her shoulders. She has a spine of fucking steel, I’ll give her that.

“You treated a redhead last week. This woman.” I show her a photo of Denver on my phone.

Dr. Shannon rubs her lips together. “I can’t discuss my patients.”

There’s a strand of humanity left in me. One that is being pulled tight, too tight, and it’s itching to snap.

“Do you make a habit of taking in patients who have no medical history and keeping them off the books?” I ask, searching her face. “Just how many women do you treat for the Eddardses?”

She schools her expression, but she can’t hide the way her face pales. “I don’t?—”

“You treat the women they sell, don’t you? Make sure they’re in good condition for their buyers?” I hate the way I’m phrasing it, but I need her to know exactly how fucked up she is. She says nothing, her jaw tight, and that’s all I need to know. “Who did the redhead come in with?”

Dr. Shannon stares at me, not even trembling, looking every bit a queen of horror.

“Last chance,” I say. “Then I start hurting you.”

“You wouldn’t,” she hisses.

I tilt my head. “You treat these women knowing full well what’ll happen once they leave. I’m willing to bet you might even hand names over to the Eddardses too, right? Single women, living alone, confiding in their doctor. Do you get commission?”

The smirk is there and gone in less than a second, but I see it. And, seemingly, so does Sandy.

“Oh, fuck this.” Sandy suddenly lurches forward, grips the doctor’s index finger, and snaps it back. Dr. Shannon screams, her eyes widening in horror, and tries to jolt out of the chair, but Sandy shoves her back into it so hard the front legs lift off the ground. “Listen here. He might not hurt you, but I will. I’ll take great pleasure in it. So you answer his questions.”

Dr. Shannon is looking at her twisted finger, shaking from the pain.

So, naturally, Sandy grabs another finger.

Snap.

The doctor lets out a yelp that evolves into sobs, staring at her two fingers now so far back it looks almost comical.

Alistair and I share a look but say nothing.

“Eli Eddards!” Dr. Shannon says as Sandy reaches for another finger. “She was with Eli.”

“Who the fuck is that?” Taf asks.

“Spider’s nephew,” Dr. Shannon breathes, tearful as she continues examining her hand like staring at it will fix it. “He told me she was a recent buy but was pregnant. He has her until she gives birth.”

My breathing picks up. “Then what?”

She swallows. “They’ll sell the baby, then her. She’s fertile, and the baby is proof of that, so she’ll go for more with my assessment.”

Sandy recoils in horror. Alistair looks like he might be sick.

“How the fuck do you sleep at night?” Sandy asks.

She scoffs. “Believe me, her being sold on will be the best thing for her. That man is a fucking creep.”

Sandy moves aside as I step forward. “In what way?”