“Should I answer it?” I ask him, voice dripping in sweetness.
“Who’s calling?”
I spin the phone closer. “Karl?”
Eli hesitates. Then nods. “Put it on speaker.”
I do.
“Yo, you there?” comes the voice on the other end.
“Yeah, talk to me,” Eli replies, focusing back on preparing lunch.
“Those guys we took out?” this Karl man grunts. “I’m sure you already know there’s more of them.”
“Do we know their next move?”
“No, they’ve gone quiet. I think they’re planning something big.”
Eli hums low in his throat. “Alright, keep me updated.”
The call ends.
Before I can consider using the phone myself, Eli is there, shoving it in his pocket.
He brings my toastie over and we eat together, just as we’ve done every day this week.
This week.
It’s Thursday. Eli said he would let me out of the house at the end of the week once I’m in love with him. Which means I don’t need to try to escape. I need to convince him I’ve fallen.
“What was that conversion?” I ask once I’ve swallowed my last bite.
“You know the organ traffickers?”
I wince. “Yeah?”
“What you saw yesterday was just one small part of their organisation. It’s bigger than we thought.”
I swallow hard. “What were they actually doing in that warehouse?”
This is where Eli hesitates. “They… are kidnapping people, drugging them to put them into a medically induced coma, then harvesting their organs.”
I choke on my gasp. “While they’re alive?” I know that Tyler said something similar yesterday, but it’s only just registering in my head the gravity of what they’re doing.
Eli’s solemn expression startles me. His usual twinkle in his eyes disappears. “Yes, they keep them alive as it keeps the organs fresher.”
“So they just take random people?”
“Sometimes, yes. They have various routes. You saw the hospital—that’s one way, but those organs aren’t so fresh, they’re not worth so much.” Eli leans in. “They also use sex-trafficked victims—because they’re already vulnerable and less likely to be missed. But they’re often malnourished. Again, less profit.”
“They use healthy people? Just take them off the street?”
Eli nods grimly.
“Why do they need organs? What are they used for?” I ask.
“It’s all about profit, Em.” I hate the way a shiver runs up my spine at him using that nickname. “It can take years to get a transplant on the legitimate lists.”