Page 86 of The Twins

She exhaled and turned to the other two, spoke fast in Romanian.

Cillian and Finn raced from the doorway.

“Oh, thank goodness.” I pressed my hand to my chest.

But they didn’t come to me, they went into the stable. The next thing I saw was them carrying Reg Jack’s dead body between them. Cillian looked my way, briefly, before going back into the burning farmhouse.

A window to the right of the door burst out into the yard, and an orange licking flame followed it. The whole house was going up, and it seemed so were the bodies. Smart, it would destroy evidence that Galahad had been here.

Phil appeared at a run, and he did come to the van. But instead of jumping in, he pulled something from the back thenstooped, screwdriver in hand, and fiddled at the front. Below the hood.

“What is happening?” Sorenna said.

“They’re torching the place.”

“Torching?”

“Burning, the police will find only ash when they arrive.”

“We should go.” She looked nervously over her shoulder. “Before police arrive.”

“You’re scared of the police?”

“In my country, Romania, the police are not good. Here…I don’t think so either. I have no passport, no documents.”

I nodded. “I see…we’ll be gone before the police arrive.”

As I’d spoken, members of Galahad emerged into the yard. Along with Finn and Cillian, they were all coughing, spluttering, staggering, and wafting their hands before their faces.

“Get a move on.” Phil stood and gestured wildly. He held a set of number plates in his hand. He’d obviously switched them. “Hurry.”

They made a dash for the van and piled in, bringing with them the charred scent of smoke and ash. Jamie leaped into the driver’s seat, Dalton at his side. Phil lumbered into the back, and Finn and Cillian flanked me.

“What went down?” I asked.

My question was ignored. Dalton spun around, dropping his bandana to his neck. He had a smear of black over his left eyebrow and he was breathless. “Are you ladies all okay?” He eyed each of us in turn. “Any injuries?”

“No, I think we’re okay,” I said.

Jamie revved the engine and then reversed at speed. I clung to the seat in front, and Finn wrapped his arm around my shoulder to stabilize me. The van then did a wheel spin before accelerating at pace down the bumpy track. We all bounced thisway and that. Dalton pressed his hand to the ceiling to prevent himself from hitting it.

We took a left at a gate with a dangling lock and chain then passed another farmhouse with a herd of black-and-white cattle grazing in the meadow.

“What happened?” I asked again.

“You know what happened.” Cillian scraped his hand through his messy hair.

“They’re all dead?” I said, then swallowed. “And burning, right?”

“Too good an end for those bastards.” Phil huffed.

“What were they doing? What was their plan for the girls?” I frowned, and my belly clenched. It didn’t bear thinking about.

“Human trading,” Jamie said, his grip on the steering wheel intensifying. “These bastards lured girls here from abroad with promises of a better life and then sold them on to the highest bidder to be sex slaves.”

“Yes,” Sorenna said, bobbing her head vigorously and her long hair falling forward over her shoulders. “They were going to sell us, fifty thousand each, I heard them say that. Fifty thousand pounds per girl. We would never have been seen again. The good Lord only knows what our fate would have been. The kind of man who buys a woman would not be a good one.”

“Sick fucks.” Phil slammed his hand into his fist.