Page 14

"Oh Ace, this is too much." His voice is higher as I unlock the van door. I push her in, and she sits in the corner, arms wrapped around her legs. She doesn't speak, and I don't blame her.

"Don't get any ideas, Jarrod. We do the job, and we go home. Got it?" My voice is harsh, colder than I intend, but I hope he gets the message. We can't fuck this up. His shoulders sag, head down.

Fuck's sake, Jarrod. Don't do this to me, too.

"She's just a kid, Ace. She's a little⁠—"

He doesn't take his eyes off her until I grab him by the arm and twist him to look at me, repeating, "We do the job. We go home. Don't let this get into your head, Jarrod. Our lives mean more to me than theirs." I don't let him go, not until he tells me he understands, until he realises I won't compromise his life over these girls, over anyone.

He nods as I release him, and doesn't reply.

I slam the van door closed. "I'll bring the rest." I don't turn. I can't look back.

Derek walks back over with two girls beside him, both older this time. Thank God. I don't think Jarrod could take any more of the younger ones. Neither of them speaks, they don't fight, either. They just follow my step, eyes down and breathing steady. Thank fuck for that.

I move with them to the van, which Jarrod quickly opens back up. "In you go," I say as I push them inside. They get in easily. I watch as they cling to each other in the back, and guilt pushes its way to the surface. This had been me once, in the back of a van, waiting to be taken.

Don't think about it, Jax. It's not you anymore. It's not you.

My heart beats a little quicker, the feeling more annoying than anything.

"Last one, Jar, then we bounce. Got it?" I try to give him a smile, but he doesn't offer one back. He's too on edge. I don't know why this time has gotten under his skin more than the others.

But then her blue eyes pop up in my head and remind me exactly why.

Don't let it in. It's not your pain, Jax.

I sigh, shoving my hands back in my pockets as I head back towards the warehouse. One more. Just one more.

I glance around, expecting to see Derek and the girl, but there's no one. I frown as I take a step closer, hand already placed at my inside pocket, ready for anything stupid to happen. That's when I hear it.

A voice.

A very fucking angry voice, which means this collection has gone from smooth to fucking trouble in seconds. Yet, I can't lie and say I'm not intrigued. This is new. Yes, they cry whilst pleading for their lives and bargain away their bodies in exchange for freedom, but they never shout. Not like her.

I walk faster, hands dropping to my side as I get closer to the girl shrieking.

"Get your filthy fucking hands off me!"

I turn the corner to see Derek struggling to hold this woman with dark, knotted curls that cover her face as she fights against his grip. Her caramel skin shines under the light overhead, she glances at me for a second and I spot the haunted look in those big brown eyes that force my own to drop to the floor.

"Hold still, you fucking whore," Derek manages to spit out, the tape falling to the ground during the struggle.

I should intervene. Vincent will go mental if his precious cargo is delivered injured, or worse, but I don't. I let it play through. I take a step closer, not bothering to hide my smile. Her eyes lock with mine instantly; I expect to see the same as all the other girls, the pleas, the desperation—but I don't.

I see pure hatred, anger.

Fuck, it's intense.

I don't pull away my gaze, I can't. She has me in a fucking chokehold.

She looks away first as her knee connects swiftly with Derek's crotch. He falls to the floor fast, his hand covering his dick as he cries out into the air through exhausted breaths.

"You'll never touch me again!" she screams, her foot moving quickly to kick into his side.

"I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill you!" Derek's voice is raspy as he cries out.

I still don't move. Every inch of me is intrigued by this beautiful woman who now has the chain in her hand. I tilt my head, studying her. She is stunning—not Vincent's usual type, which somehow makes this worse. She'll be ruined the moment he gets his hands on her. Something twists in my chest as she takes another glance at me, sweat beading on her forehead.