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I’ve heard of Juan Martinez, but I don’t know a lot about the crime that happens in the city. It’s not the best thing to do but ignoring it has worked out fine so far. I guess that’s not the case anymore.
“They finally have a new Prez and one of the first things they did is start to peddle Martinez’s shit drugs on the street again. Normally we wouldn’t get too involved in that because people have the right to fuck up their lives.” He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “But when they start pushing their shit on kids it’s no longer something we can ignore. They started getting girls and women hooked on smack and then pimping them out at some house.”
I muse, “Like a brothel?”
He snorts out a laugh, the sound derisive, but it doesn’t feel like it’s directed at me. “A brothel was probably their goal, but the place was a shit hole that was barely standing upright anymore. It was not some upscale club for the rich and influential.”
I nod against his chest, my fingers playing along the lines of his tattoos on the edge of his shoulder. I stare at the graphic black and grey images, committing them to memory because I can this time.
“A few days ago, a fourteen-year-old girl was found dead from an overdose. Lucifer was able to tie her to the RRMC’s business,” he sneers the word, “through his intel.”
I squeeze my eyes closed, my heart breaking for the young life that probably had no real idea what she was getting involved in or how she was going to be used. If her life had taken a different path, would she have been one of my students?
“Hey,” Crosby coos soothingly, “I know, Firefly. I know.”
That is when I register that I’m crying. For her. For her family. For the life she could have lived.
“So you had to go in and put a stop to it,” my voice is shaky, just on the edge of sobbing as I look up, ignoring the expanse of my man’s chest, to meet his eyes.
“Yes, and I would do it again.”
“Good.” His eyes widen slightly in surprise, and I shift just enough to kiss the underside of his jaw. “If you think I’m going to judge you for ridding the world of evil, you’re wrong. You’re a good man, Crosby, and you have a good heart.”
He nods slowly and I watch as my words sink in and chase away some of the shadows which have been darkening his eyes since he walked through the door. They’re not eradicated completely, but that will take some time.
Time which I have to give.
He goes on to tell me about what he saw when he walked into the house and how many girls and young women were rescued. While I’m not a counselor, I’ve talked to my school’s counselor before to help me be better equipped to help my students and spot any potential problems that they might need more support with. I do know a little bit about some of the resources in the city and tell him everything I can.
“The woman you rescued,” my voice is soft, “she was really out of it, huh?”
His eyes get a faraway look, but his hands don’t stop touching me. “She was high, but she was also scared.” When he shakes his head, he comes back to me. “We’ll help everyone we can, whether it’s getting them into rehab or reuniting them with their families. Hacker is looking into everyone to help us with that.” He sighs, the sound slightly tortured as my eyelids start to feel heavier with every blink. “We got them out, which means they have a little bit of hope now, but that doesn’t mean the road before them will be easy to walk.”
I cling to him, part of me scared that he’s going to slip through my fingers. I try to push the thought away, but it persists, and my eyebrows scrunch together as my exhausted mind tries to make sense of the dread that washes over me.
As his hands caress me, his voice lulls me into a dreamless sleep, “Close your eyes, Firefly, you need your rest.”
I nod slowly, my heart filled with compassion while something gnaws at my gut. He was only doing what was right. Logically, I know that.
But why does it feel like this is just the beginning?
CHAPTER 16
APOSTLE
I brace myself before I walk into the DSMC clubhouse knowing that I’ll probably be met by pure fucking chaos. How could it be anything different after the night we had last night and the number of distrustful, and strung-out women, who are now under our care.
It’s clear that some of the people we rescued last night will need to detox and go through rehab before anything else can happen. I hope that they’re able to kick the habit. It’s only then that we can help them get their lives on track.
For the two girls I know are underage, I’m not sure how we can proceed. They need rehab and support, but there are probably more legal hoops to jump through and consider. Just thinking about it has a headache starting to form behind my eyes.
I’m looking forward to being filled in with what went down last night from Lucifer and his team’s perspective. I have quite a few unanswered questions. But once my team and I went upstairs, our focus was on making sure all the women were taken out and brought back to the compound.
I couldn’t focus on who was found in the house as far as the men go, and especially those who were part of the RRMC. I know that their shit pile of a club are down at least two brothers since my bullets took them out.
But what about everyone else? Was Hustle in the house or did he escape the sting of retribution?
I’m jittery as I close the distance to the doors of the clubhouse. I didn’t get nearly enough time with my woman this morning and she looked so fucking tired when she headed off to work. I have one of the Prospects watching over her today, just in case, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to worry about her.
