Page 32 of Brutal Truths

What other secrets are in this folder? Do I even want to know?

I’m in the process of gathering them when the door to my room flies open, startling me.

It’s a woman.

She stares at me like she can’t believe what she’s seeing, then turns away and speaks to someone behind her in Russian. Her words are lost on me, but as she finishes, two men appear, grabbing my arms and hauling me up, forcing me to walk or be dragged as they follow her.

I assume it’s to get me out of this room.

When they shove me into another room just down the hall—one without two dead bodies—I know I’m right.

They toss me to the ground and leave; the door locking behind them before I can say a word or learn her identity.

“Thank you!” I scream in the most sarcastic voice I can muster.

Chapter 9

Aiden

As night falls, Soulcombe’s members descend upon the grounds, ready to mingle with other like-minded bastards. I really don’t enjoy being here. The sound of each car door slamming grates on my nerves and makes my trigger finger itch. At least it’s a weeknight and not a weekend, keeping the masses away.

I’d have left hours ago, but I need to speak with Trent. His avoidance is maddening. He still hasn’t returned after retreating to his home on the grounds.

Fucking hell. This is taking way too long.

From my seat on a bench in the side garden, I’ve watched three women go in and out of his place. All of them too damn young. It’s sickening, and the reason I bummed a ciggy from Silas before he and Merial disappeared to his place an hour after sending Dr. Finnly and his associate with two guards to be dumped at a hospital.

Bloody mess, that was. We cauterized his wound and added a tourniquet just to keep him from bleeding out. Not the first time I’ve done that. As former SBS, it was part of my training. Someone always ends up as the medic. I was assigned that lucky task. It didn’t require a medical degree. I was more of a paramedic with a few extra skills. The one who kept men alive long enough to get them the hell out of there. Making sure no one got left behind.

Silas almost blacked out when things escalated, so Drake helped me sear the wound with a red-hot metal plate. Finnly squealed like a pig. Ugly, but it worked.

Sanitary? Doubtful, but not my problem. Our goal was simple—stop the bleeding. If he got a nasty infection and lost more of his arm, that’s on him.

My pocket vibrates, pulling me to my feet. One last drag before crushing out my third smoke under my boot. Phone in hand, I unlock it and read the three incoming texts, my pulse kicking up a notch as I do.

PAULY:

Might have found her. Long shot, but if it pays off, I owe Holster’s tech guy for pulling what I couldn’t. Alma’s been chatty. Said something that helped. Waiting on the address.

You’ll want this. Cygan contacted D.C. Sanders. Tap on the detective’s phone paying off. Message was vague. Sounded like he was thanking him for tracking the girl down.

Got it. Sending the address. Thirty minutes out. Are we going alone, or are you coming?

There’s no way I’m letting them go without me.

ME:

Leaving now. Meet up in ten at the farm down the road.

We’re on the move now. See you soon.

Jogging toward my car, I hear Trent’s door finally open and shut. When I glance that way, sure enough, it’s the boss. He’s heading straight for me.

Bloody fucking perfect.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His tone is non-negotiable, and with each heavy step my way says he’s expecting a reply.

“Something came up.” I flick a hand, a dismissive gesture. “I’ll call later. Cort’s in your office with Drake. Merial’s taking care of Silas.”