Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 128812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
"Careful, sweetheart," I tell the girl sitting on my lap when her hand runs down the front of my jeans. "It bites."
She chuckles, but the relief swimming in her eyes when she pulls her hand away tells me everything I need to know.
The threat of vomit clogs my throat. I know where the fucking line is in all of this, and even though I haven't touched one of these women, it makes me no less complicit in their victimization.
I chase the nausea with my beer, draining the damn thing.
"Want me to get you another?" the girl on my lap asks, and I dip my head, handing her the empty bottle, soaking up the relief when she stands and walks away.
I keep Bobby in my periphery, trying to decide when to step in if he gets too involved with the young girl beside him, but she's simply crouched on the ground, his hand resting on her head like a fucking puppy.
The men seem happy. Well, all accept the one Bobby claimed is mad about the wife. That man is over to the side, arguing with someone I presume is his wife.
Movement catches my eyes, and I watch as a man grabs a woman by the hand, her feet digging into the dirt for a brief second as he pulls on her before she gives up and starts to walk away with him.
My hands grip the armrests of my chair, ready to jump and beat that guy's ass, but before I can stand, Bobby speaks.
"Time for bed," he yells as he stands, making the man walking away stop in his tracks.
I watch as his shoulders fall in disappointment, but he immediately releases the woman's hand, who doesn't hesitate to put some distance between the two of them.
"You all have to work in the morning," Bobby says, looking down at the girl still crouched at his feet. "You run along, too, Sasha."
The women scurry away, disappearing into the darkness as the men watch them leave, disappointment etched on their faces.
No one complains. Not one man walks up and demands his chance with one of the women. He has them trained well. I have no doubt that these men have learned how to behave just the way the women have, either through punishment or coercion, watching others get punished for doing what they'd all like to do.
I stand, stretching my arms over my head, hiding a grin when I make myself imposing enough that Bobby takes half a step back.
"Great party."
I glance up, relief washing over me at the sight of Zayne standing there.
"I'm going to put the two of you on a scouting job tomorrow," Bobby says.
"Scouting?" I ask before thinking twice.
"Just need a cozy little place for some friends," he answers.
I glance at my partner, feeling a little less lost when it seems like he knows exactly what Bobby wants from us.
"You got it," Zayne says, rubbing his hands together like an eager little kid standing in front of a nickel candy display, gripping a five-dollar bill. "Mind if I keep my oil change appointment first? That junker I have has to be babied more than a woman with a restraining order."
Bobby chuckles as if he has experience with just that. "No problem. Just don't come back empty-handed."
When Bobby walks off, we don't wait to make our way back to our little piece of fucking heaven.
I have a million questions, a million things I need to know going forward, but the opportunity isn't given with the listening device planted in our area.
Instead of finding a piece of paper and a pen, I just stare at Zayne as he strips down to his boxers, having more faith in his safety than I do in this place.
He gives me a sad look, squeezing my hand before climbing up into the top bunk to go to sleep.
Chapter 27
Zayne
I know my partner is no less confused when he wakes up than he was when we went to bed, and it's killing me not to have the chance to explain what's going on.
I can ride his ass for not reading the dossier, but honestly, there's so much shit that is nuanced across different groups that you could spend years studying these types of groups, only for the operation you land in to be nothing like what you studied.
Bobby's power play last night was a godsend. Zeus was seconds away from stopping that couple who were disappearing into the darkness last night.
This type of job is such a fucking fine line between right and wrong and lesser fucking evils, that I've lost bits and pieces of myself along the way for not acting when I should or not acting soon enough. I don't know how many more of these infiltrations I have in me.
I requested the oil change because, more than anything, I didn't want to end up forced to drive one of their vehicles. Having to leave it at the supplies building made me nervous, but nothing has been said about them finding the devices Casper had installed so they can listen to us.