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Usually, I’m willing to entertain other sides, but this time I agree wholeheartedly. This girl’s parents should have made sure she was safe. They didn’t and she was lured into the clutches of people who have changed the course of her life in a way that she might never be able to come back from.
The mood in the room is somber as Hacker starts to walk us through files on the other females, starting with those who have already gone to rehab. I’m sure that I’m not the only one hoping that they can overcome their demons and get sober. If not, life is going to continue to be difficult for them and we’ll only be able to help them so much.
While listening to Hacker, it’s taking all my self-control not to storm out of the room and head out to the shed where I know Hustle is waiting for us to make time for his very own welcome party. He’s probably very aware that it’ll be the last party he attends and that he’ll hate every single moment of it.
I’m going to make sure that his stay with us is pure agony. He deserves nothing less.
Hacker clears his throat and cuts his eyes in my direction. The haze of red in my vision as I was thinking about what I want to do to Hustle evaporates.
“This is Tara,” Hacker intones.
The same information is on the screen as the other women. I tilt my head because the photo is one that clearly came from her social media, and she looks so different. Her hair is shiny and full instead of looking stringy and lifeless. Her eyes are bright, and her smile holds joy instead of hidden despair.
It’s hard to put the two images I have of Tara together. How the fuck did her life take such a turn? She’s only 22; younger than my sister.
“Her parents died two years ago in a car accident,” Hacker informs the group even though it’s on the screen in front of us.
Maybe it’s for my benefit because I find that I can’t look away from her picture to read anything else about her.
My heart clenches because I understand what it’s like to lose your parents in a tragedy. I wouldn’t wish that kind of pain on anyone. It’s a feeling that can never be resolved because they’re just gone. Anything that you didn’t say is still there in the ether, without ever being able to find those who need to hear it.
Because they’re gone.
“She’d come here for college, but dropped out after her parent’s death,” he informs us. “She was working in strip clubs throughout the city for a while. I suspect she got introduced to drugs in one of them. She was picked up for solicitation six months ago.”
I swing my gaze over to Hacker and narrow my eyes. “Are you trying to say she chose to be there selling her body instead of being manipulated by those fucking assholes?”
Hacker shrugs like I’m not a seething while staring at him and daring him to say just that. “I don’t know what happened, I’m only telling you the facts that I’ve been able to find out about her. She’s the only one who knows the truth of what happened, and I can only get us so much information.”
His words do nothing to appease me, but I know fighting with my brother isn’t going to solve anything. I take one more look at her picture, seeing a young woman full of life and promise, before I focus on Lucifer.
My Prez meets my eyes and sighs at whatever he sees on my face. “Whether she chose to be there or not doesn’t matter, Apostle. We’re going to make sure she gets the help she needs.”
I nod my head and try to relax my body. It’s almost impossible to do.
For some reason, knowing that we’ve both experienced the death of our parents, makes me feel pity for her. If I didn’t have the support of my brothers when they died, where would I have ended up? It’s a question I can’t answer, but I still wonder.
I was damn lucky because when the days were dark, I knew I had people who wouldn’t allow me to get lost in the inky blackness of grief. Tara wasn’t as lucky as I was.
Maybe if she had been closer to home for college then she would have had more support. But she was already in a new place and, by the looks of it, a larger city. The allure to forget and to be numb pulled her in with promises that were always destined to be broken.
Now look at her.
Hacker’s voice shakes, “Then there’s the girl Feral carried out.” He shakes his head and looks toward the TV where a photo that was clearly taken last night or this morning is on display. My heart clenches at the fear and distrust in her eyes. “She won’t say a word which means I haven’t gotten her name yet. I’ve tried to find her, but I haven’t yet. I’ve tired facial recognition software and haven’t gotten any matches yet.”
“Fuck,” Prodigal breathes out and I look away from the screen because it’s too much.
She should have a family out there searching for her. But she doesn’t, at least not that Hacker has found. She’s all alone.
But she has a family now.
“We’ll figure it out,” Lucifer promises us. He glances at Tack before informing us, “Feral and Diana have asked to take her in while we figure out who she is. They think being in a home instead of the clubhouse might make her feel more comfortable with opening up. I’m also looking into counseling options.”
“I figured that would happen, whether she has family out there or not,” there’s a hint of amusement in Tack’s voice. Honestly, when I saw the way Feral was holding the girl last night, I thought it might happen as well. Tack’s voice is filled with compassion, “Is she exhibiting withdrawal symptoms?”
“No,” Lucifer’s voice is filled with hope. “She’s clearly been traumatized, but there aren’t any track marks on her, and she seems okay physically. She’s underweight and malnourished, but nothing we can’t handle.”
I breathe a sigh of relief with his words. It could be a lot worse.
