Page 37

SIMON

“You still think we shouldn’t call Zeke and his friends?” I look over the bodies of the two dead men we pulled out of Myra’s house. “Because it’s not as easy as it used to be to get rid of these things.”

I don’t know what happened between Butch and the guys at Alaskan Security, but he immediately shoots me down.

“Absolutely not.” He scrubs one hand over his face and starts pacing across the warehouse floor. “ Fuck .” His voice echoes around the large space. “ Fuck .”

“We can’t help you if you aren’t honest with us.

” Tate stands beside me, looking just as perplexed as I am by Butch’s refusal.

“You said yourself, the cops are still watching us. You think they’re not going to get suspicious at some point?

We’re lucky we got these fuckers here without getting caught.

How in the hell do you think we’re going to dispose of them without attracting attention? ”

“I’ll figure something out.” Butch continues pacing.

I meet Tate’s eyes, guilt brewing in my gut over what I had to do.

What we all agreed had to be done.

At one point we all thought Butch was one of us. That he was our brother.

We were wrong.

He told me I couldn’t trust anyone, and I believe him. Unfortunately, that includes him. But I still want to avoid betraying him entirely at all costs.

“It’s not just these pricks. How in the hell do you think we’re going to get rid of a big, bright red fucking box truck?

” I need him to see there’s only one way out of this.

That our only option is to call in Christian’s friend Zeke.

The company he works for—Alaskan Security— can make all of this go away.

They can help us track down the men responsible for those fuckers coming after Myra.

And that’s who they were after. Not Becca. My Myra .

After digging through everything on their phones, we were able to piece together a little more of the corruption happening around us. It’s not pretty.

It’s also not only happening in Memphis.

From what we were able to discern, while all the power players are here in Memphis, they’re abducting women from all across the country.

Women like Myra who stood up to awful men.

Women like Becca who tried to call out the corruption.

It’s a modern-day witch-hunt, but this time it’s not fire they’re facing.

It’s violation.

The men who came to Myra’s house almost got lucky. They almost managed to collect two marks at once. Myra might have been their primary target, but Becca’s name was also on the list hidden in their notes.

“We’re not fucking calling Alaskan Security.” Butch paces faster. “I can handle this. I just need a minute to think.”

“We’ve had a minute to think. We know enough to understand this isn’t something we can take on by ourselves.

” Tate tries to reason with him. “Men all throughout the prison system are using women like currency. They’re giving them up to this group as punishment.

They’re telling these people where to find them in retaliation for putting those fuckers behind bars. ”

I fight against the rage bubbling through me. The anger at a man I still wish I could get my hands on.

The list of names I saw was long, and those were just the women they were targeting locally. The number of men like Matthias who are willing to sell these women into a sex trafficking ring to beef up their fucking commissary and dish out their personal vendettas is disgusting. It’s sick.

And it has to end.

The heavy door of the warehouse opens behind me, and I know my time to sway Butch is up. I tried to make him understand, but if he won’t, that’s not my problem.

My problem is keeping Myra safe. At any cost.

Christian strides in, eyes fixed on Butch. “It’s time.”

Butch finally stops his erratic steps and looks between the three of us. The ones tasked with this job. “Time for what?”

Christian pulls in a deep breath. “I called Zeke. His team will be here in a few minutes.”

Butch stares at Christian, open mouthed. After a few heartbeats, he advances on him. “You fucking?—”

Tate and I step in front of Christian. I hold one hand up. “We’re not gonna do that.”

Butch lifts his chin, glare cold as ice. “Fine. Becca and I will be gone when you get back.”

I shake my head. “Becca’s already with Zeke’s team.”

I expect Butch to be pissed about that, but I don’t anticipate the level of rage that pours out of him.

“I’ll fucking kill you.” He swings at me, managing to return the shot I got in on him the other night.

It takes all three of us to get him under control, with most of us sustaining some sort of damage in the process. When we’re finally able to shove him back, everyone’s bruised, battered, and breathing hard.

The four of us stare each other down, years of deception wedged between us.

I only drag my attention away when the door Christian came through opens. Zeke and his team filter in, their sharp gazes snapping around the warehouse. Christian’s friend stops, eyes narrowing. “Where’s Butch?”

“He’s—” I turn to where he was just seconds ago.

“Gone.”

“You might want to be careful, because I’m pretty sure Becca is going to try to hit you with something way more dangerous than a shoe the next time she sees you.” Myra delivers her warning before I’m even fully in the house.

“It will be worth it if it keeps her safe.” Becca can hate me as much as she wants, as long as it keeps her from ending up abducted. Or worse.

Myra flops down on the sofa now gracing our family room, letting her head fall back against the cushions. “I just feel so bad. Butch is all she really feels like she has, and we just basically tricked her into ditching him.”

I move to sit beside Myra, pulling her close.

“She didn’t ditch him. Technically, he ditched her.

He could have stayed. He’s the one who chose to take off.

” I smooth back her blonde hair, savoring the feel of her in my arms. “And maybe if he would’ve finally been fucking honest for once, we would have known why he didn’t want Alaskan Security involved.

” Disappointment joins the nausea I’ve been sporting since hearing Myra scream.

“But if he’s not willing to trust us, I’m not willing to trust him. ”

Myra leans closer, one hand coming out to grip the front of my shirt like she wants to make sure I’ll stay close. “Do you trust Zeke?”

“I trust Christian. And he trusts Zeke.” I shrug. “That’s good enough for me.”

Myra’s eyes drift to the window looking over her backyard, following the path of a flashlight as it shifts across the space. “It’s going to be weird having people follow me around again.”

“I know, Sweetheart.” I hated doing it to her, but there’s no fucking way I’m losing her. “It won’t be forever. Just until Zeke and his team can figure out what the fuck is going on.”

Myra gives me a little nod. “I hope they figure it out quickly. Not just for me, but for Becca too. And Lydia already went through this once. What if they take me and she has to face it again? What if my father tries to get them to take—” Her voice cracks.

“No one’s going to get you. No one’s going to get Lydia.” I run one hand down her arm, lacing our fingers together. “And we will get Becca’s sister back. We will get all of them back.”

I don’t know how many there are. Can’t even begin to guess. The number will probably shock me. Probably make me question humanity and the way we treat men in power.

Myra gives me a soft smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “I know you will.” She reaches up, running her hand across my jaw. “I love you.”

“I love you.” I lean down, brushing my lips across hers. “Are you sure you want to stay here? In this house?”

It’s a question that’s been nagging me since I dragged two dead bodies out the back door. I almost thought she wouldn’t even want the couch in the house, but she did. I don’t know if we’ll keep it—that decision falls on Zeke’s shoulders—but it’s here for now.

And she doesn’t seem bothered to be sitting on it.

Myra’s eyes drift around the space, brows pinching as she considers. “I can’t imagine leaving. This is my house. I bought it all by myself.” Her eyes come to my face. “I don’t want to let Matthias take that from me too.”

I nod in understanding. “If you change your mind, just tell me. We’ll buy the place across the street. I’ll gut it. Make it whatever you want it to be.”

A more genuine smile lights up her face. “I’m not sure Christian has enough random stuff in his warehouse to accomplish that.”

I chuckle. “I feel like we’ve moved past the point of you forcing me to only use found items on renovations.”

Myra rolls her eyes. “Don’t act like you weren’t sneaking in stuff you went out and bought.” She pokes me in the chest. “I know what fresh two-by-fours look like.”

“You only said I could only use items I found at Christian’s warehouse.” I shrug. “You never gave me specific instructions on how they had to get to Christian’s warehouse.”

“You’re a sneaky man.” Myra loops her arms around my neck, pulling me close. “Maybe you should sneak me upstairs. Sneak your big?—”

Myra’s back door flies open as one of Zeke’s men storms in. His head snaps from side to side as he looks around the kitchen and family room with narrowed eyes. “Is Becca here?”

Myra sits up. “No. She’s down at Shelley’s house. Why?”

“Fuck.” The guy—Owen I think—grabs the comm on his shoulder. “She’s not here.”

Myra gets to her feet as a voice carries through the mic. “She’s not here either.”

Three more men confirm Becca’s not where they are before everything goes quiet.

“What’s going on?” Myra’s question is wobbly and soft. Like she already knows what’s coming.

Owen turns to her, looking like he’s hating his fucking life for being the one stuck delivering the news. “Becca’s gone.”