“My name is Fae,” I attempt again, softer. “I am not here to hurt you, okay?”
I can feel Roman’s presence behind me. He has one eye on the dead man walking and is mumbling something to someone. It’s then I notice my earpiece must have fallen out during the fight and I sharply turn to Roman. His eyes drink me in, I can see worry behind them and it takes all my willpower not to crumble and let him hold me.
“Tell them to bring her clothes,” I demand, he nods as I turn back to the naked and bloody girl in front of me. “I’m going to get you out, alright?” Her lips tremble as she looks back at me.
“N… no,” she shakes her head and whispers like she doesn’t believe in an out. Like she doesn’t believe in an after. I nod. I can understand that more than most.
“I understand this is scary,” I whisper and move to sit cross-legged in front of her. “I was like you too, you know,” she snaps her head up to me and properly takes me in. I give her a sympathetic smile and nod as I continue, “I never thought I’d be free, but I am now. I promise you, no one is touching you again unless you want them to, okay?”
Her lips wobble as she draws her knees in closer, her eyes flicking behind my shoulder to Roman.
“He’s with me, he won’t hurt you or I will kill him.” She gasps, like she’s worried he will attack back. I said it on purpose, knowing it would amuse him and hopefully let her see he is safe to speak around. Right on cue, Roman chuckles behind me.
“Yep, she will. She’s the boss of me.” He says in a tone I have only heard him use once before, when I had my panic attack in the dungeon, like he is trying to make himself smaller.
I give a soft smile as I look around the stained mattress. The blood and the filth attack my eyes as I turn to the man whothought this secrecy made him safe. I used to think survival was enough. Tonight, I realise it isn’t. This isn’t about information anymore. It isn’t even about just saving Robyn.
Now it is about catching every person who thought they could get away with this and making them burn.
CHAPTER 26
ROMAN
The girl is shaking. She’s not loud or hysterical. Just… shaking. Small, fractured tremors travel through her bones like she is trying to disappear inside her own skin. She looks about fourteen but I could be wrong because she is so emaciated.
Dirt streaks her face. Dried blood marks her knees and thighs and I would bet my life most of it is hers. The thought makes my jaw lock harder. She is curled in on the cold concrete, her arms wrapped around her ribs like if she holds tight enough she won’t fall apart. All I see when I look at her is Fae. A burning rage builds in my chest at the thought I have broken bread with men who facilitate this. It’s like nothing I have felt before.
I’m trying my hardest not to go over there and help. I can tell my presence alone is affecting her. I don’t blame her. I’m a scary motherfucker. I know that most people around me know that, but for a fleeting moment, I wish I could control how others perceive me enough to help her.
On three separate occasions, I’ve gone to give her my jacket and stopped. It’s soaked. Not just splattered, soaked. Thick, tacky blood darkens the already black fabric and the cuffs arestiff from where it dried after the first body hit the ground. It smells heavy and metallic.
I can’t put it on her…can I?
Shit, she’s already traumatised enough. I can’t imagine how it would go, me of all people dropping a bloody jacket in front of her and saying, “there you go.”
What was done to this girl was efficient cruelty. It’s the kind of horror men justify to themselves until it becomes routine. I have no idea who lies in the bloody puddle at my feet, but I will find out. From his designer shoes, I’d say he comes from wealth, but I haven’t seen him in my circles. Taking another quick look at the girl, I catalogue her injuries clinically. This piece of shit is going to feel my wrath and I will make sure every injury she has been inflicted with is repaid in kind.
My attention shifts to Fae. My beautiful little Tinkerbell. She hasn’t hesitated once. Not when she slit those men’s throats. Not when she beat the other black and blue. I can still see it, the way she moved in clean, certain strides. Her hands were firm, her eyes hard, and she never once looked back at me for reassurance. She didn’t need to. She just acted.
And now, as I watch her sit cross-legged on this filthy warehouse floor, she tries to make herself smaller like she isn’t a natural-born killer. It does something to me. Like two different creatures in the same skin. Fae the killer, the assassin who never hesitates or second-guesses, and Tinkerbell, my fragile little one who whimpers in her sleep and holds me when she has a panic attack.
I have never had more respect for another human being than I do for her.
I can’t hear what they are saying to one another. My focus is on my earpiece. I can’t tell Fae yet, because her focus should be on the girl in front of us, but Riggs and Victor found two more victims. They don’t seem anywhere near as bad as this girl.According to Atlas, both were picked up a week ago after a night out in Colchester.
I hope Fae takes that as a win. Granted, we haven’t found Robyn, but there is still so much information in this warehouse that I know Atlas and Victor will find something useful. I see Fae reaching out a steady hand towards the girl, her movements confident but soft, something in my chest shifts. Not towards the girl, but towards Fae.
She shouldn’t have to be this strong. She shouldn’t have to know how to do this and yet, she does. As if she feels my eyes on her, she looks over her shoulder at me. To others she may seem controlled and confident, but I can already tell by the tightness around her eyes and her drawn-up shoulders that she is cracking. My hands itch with the need to rip her away from here and hold her close, but I know I can’t.
“Where are they?” she demands, still holding the girl’s hand as she gently rubs circles on her palm.
“They will be here soon,” I say as softly as I can. “Atlas is driving now, the perimeter is clear.” The girl whimpers at that and Fae’s head twists back to her as she tries to soften her features again.
“Can you tell me what worried you there?” she asks quietly.
“Wh… who is coming?” The girl bites her lip so hard I’m worried she is going to start bleeding, but Fae just gifts her another soft smile.
“My twin brother,” she responds. “He is as tall as this fucker,” she flicks her head like she’s pointing to me, “but he also will not hurt you, okay? I promise you that.”