Page 35 of Kane (Ghost Ops #4)

“I was my father’s accountant. I kept the books—both sets—while also running the nightclub.

And I copied everything before I left. I have a memory card with all the information from my father’s businesses.

” She pulled in a breath, her body shivering.

“It would be enough to bury anybody else, but he has contacts in the police department. Probably has them in a few other agencies as well. I could never be certain so I never did anything with it. If I were to trust the wrong person…”

She didn’t have to tell him what would happen. By now, he understood.

“Your father wants the card back.”

“Yes. And me too, I expect. I’m too dangerous to let walk free. I know things—and I will always know them.”

That was the truth of it. She had the information on a memory card that she could share with law enforcement, if she ever trusted them enough, but she also had it in her head. She knew the books because she’d kept the books. She was a loose cannon so far as her father was concerned.

He would want her back so he could punish her. Then he would silence her permanently.

They reached the farm and Kane drove up to the house and parked. Ethan and Alex parked beside them.

“Wait,” Kane commanded when she unclipped her seat belt. Ethan and Alex exited their vehicles. She couldn’t see where they went but they reappeared a few minutes later, tucking weapons into holsters and nodding at Kane.

“Let’s go,” he said.

They went inside the house with its beautiful original features she found so charming, but this time it didn’t seem welcoming the way it had before.

She stood with her arms folded over her body, watching the three men warily.

Kane was angry with her. Ethan and Alex would be too once the truth spilled.

They would despise her, and it surprised her to realize how much that was going to hurt.

“Beers?” Ethan asked.

“Hell, yeah,” Kane replied. “Daphne?”

“Um, yes. Please.”

Alex took a seat, kicking one leg over the other at his ankles and slouching into the chair like somebody who didn’t give a fuck about anything. “If somebody would like to tell me what’s going on, I’m all ears.”

Ethan returned with the beers, passed them around. Daphne sank onto the edge of the couch, but she couldn’t relax. Kane didn’t sit. He hovered. Ethan stood nearby, waiting.

“You want to tell him or do I?” Kane said.

The easy way out was to let him do it. But it was also the coward’s way, and these guys had done too much for her. The least she could do was tell them something they wanted to know before she damned herself in their eyes.

“I know where the diamond on your Glock trigger comes from.”

She heard Kane’s intake of breath and knew he’d put two and two together. One more thing to be pissed at her about since she could have saved him from spending so much time searching for an answer.

“Go on,” Alex said.

“John O’Malley of Crescent City Armory traffics in illegal weapons.

He’s known for the quality of his goods, and his mods are top notch.

The legal weapons are stamped with the fleur-de-lis, his official mark.

But his other work gets a diamond pattern.

It’s basic, untraceable, and denotes a certain quality of the goods.

Not everything gets that diamond. Only weapons to very select clients.

It’s somewhat of a status symbol in the criminal underworld.

Can others fake the diamond? Sure. And it’s possible that one isn’t his mark, that somebody else is faking it for reasons of their own.

But a diamond stamped in a hidden location is an O’Malley mark. I can’t prove it, but I know it.”

Many things were on the memory card, but proof of the diamond wasn’t one of them. It wasn’t like her father had a playbook on how to be a crime king. He just had records of the financial aspect of his businesses.

Alex exchanged a look with Kane. “And you know this how?”

“Because I’m Josie O’Malley. John’s daughter.”

Ethan’s eyes widened a fraction. Alex only arched an eyebrow.

“You’re his daughter,” he repeated. “Did he send you here?”

That question took her aback. “Why would he do that? I never heard of your range until I got to Sutton’s Creek. And no, he didn’t send me. I left because?—”

Her throat tightened and she took a big swallow of her beer, let it scald its way down her throat. Dammit, she should have grabbed the Scotch before they left the apartment.

“I left because my brother, quite possibly with my father’s approval, started trafficking vulnerable people into prostitution—mostly women, though some young men too.

Undocumented immigrants, people with forged papers, women in bad situations.

Teenage girls and boys as well, lured by a promise of a better life with people who care.

But they don’t care. They only care about money, and by then it’s too late to escape.

They’re trapped. Drugged, trapped, forced into submission.

Some are sold, others put into the trade. ”

She pressed a hand to her mouth to stop the sudden sob that clogged her throat.

She’d held onto this knowledge for months, hating herself for not doing anything but also not knowing who to trust with the information.

Who to tell so they could put an end to it.

One wrong move and she’d be dead. Then those people would never be free.

Kane’s hand closed over her shoulder, squeezing. She’d thought she was out in the cold, forever cut off from any kindness he had to offer, but he was giving it to her anyway.

“We’re going to help you, Daphne. We won’t let them take you.”

Those few words gave her hope. And yet she despaired, too. Her father was powerful. Maybe not here, but his power wasn’t solely concentrated in New Orleans. His influence could reach this far, do things to these men she cared about.

Bad things.

No way could she sit by and watch it happen.

“I’m not going back,” she said, straightening her spine. “But I can’t stay here either. I can’t endanger all of you any more than I already have. I can be on my way tonight. All I ask is you keep it a secret as long as possible.”

Alex and Ethan gave her the same look that Kane had. A look that said honey, please . As if they weren’t afraid of anyone or anything. As if they were positive they could control the situation and she was the one overreacting.

“I’m not going to pretend this isn’t inconvenient,” Alex said, his voice a low, lazy drawl.

“It would have been nice to know the details much, much earlier. But we can and we will protect you. It’s what we do.

Kane, text the others. Tell them we need a strategy meeting first thing in the morning. Oh-six-hundred.”

Daphne gaped. They weren’t listening to her. They were treating this like a consultation in Research Park when the men coming for her were cold-blooded enforcers for the O’Malley empire. It wasn’t the same thing at all. She shot to her feet and stared the three of them down.

“I can’t let you risk your lives for me.

You don’t understand what’s going on here.

My father is ruthless. My brother is a psychotic asshole who delights in tormenting people.

If he isn’t here yet, he’s coming. And he won’t care who he harms—or kills—to get his way.

You can’t install a security system and take turns patrolling in the dark, or whatever it is you do, and keep me safe.

You just can’t. Because Jackson and his enforcers do not play fair or show mercy.

They will kill all of you, and anyone you care about. ”

Kane took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. He didn’t look in the least bit alarmed by what she’d said. He looked… indulgent?

“Listen to me. Your fear for us is beyond adorable. I’m touched.

The guys are touched. But unless your brother and his enforcers have HALOed into enemy territory with nothing but a few light weapons and packs, with the objective to extract hostages or kill terrorists or kidnap enemy commanders—and have done it repeatedly, over a period of years, and lived to tell about it—then no, we aren’t worried about a group of highly armed assholes—and no doubt deadly accurate ones, if your shooting is anything to go by.

But they can’t have suffered the deprivation, the battles, the training, the endless working to be the best of the best that the six of us have endured.

Your shooting is fucking amazing, and I’m sure your brother is the same.

Maybe even the men with him. But how many pitched battles have they engaged in, huh?

Or is it all superior numbers and firepower intimidating and killing people who can’t fight back? ”

Daphne stared at him as hope tried to flare again. She forced her brain back to the questions. “Battles? With enemy fighters equally equipped?”

“Yes. How many?”

“I… Well, it has to be zero. Battles are not how it works. A crime boss sends in his enforcers to intimidate or kill. There might occasionally be a battle for territory, but it’s not a battle in the sense you’re talking about with two sides meeting to fight it out.

So, zero battles with enemy fighters. An encounter with return fire a couple of times a year, maybe. ”

Kane grinned. “I didn’t really expect a detailed answer, but that’s fucking brilliant. Zero battles with enemy fighters. Do you see why we aren’t scared of these dicks now?”

The hope inside her kindled into a small flame. She tried to temper it with reality. “Yes, I think so. But it doesn’t solve the problem, not really. Once they know I’m here, they won’t stop trying to get to me. You won’t ever be safe.”

“Not true, honey. Tell them the rest of it. The accounting, the memory card. What you know.”

“Memory card?” Alex said, perking up. “That sounds promising. Tell me more.”