Page 12 of Callum

“Why would they do this to her? She’s one of them.” I peel back the rest of the filthy material around her shin, revealing a choppy cut, most likely resulting from a series of smaller slices that bled into one.

Lachlan clears his throat, sliding the black bag of supplies off his shoulder and dropping it onto the table beside Rosalind’s hip. The plastic bag resting on top of the miscellaneous blood-spattered items makes me frown. He stopped for medical supplies?

A large droplet of blood slips from his arm, splattering onto the rug beneath the table, and I sigh internally. I will have to get an entire new dining room set at this rate.

“They were torturing her.” Was it because of the baby?

“They were.”

“How did she get away?” Who has the baby right now?

“Harlowe.”

“Hunt?” I can’t keep the surprise out of my voice. We all joke that Harlowe Hunt is the weakest link in the GiGi’s armor, but I have a hard time believing even she would do something as stupid as letting a hostage go. “Is Rosalind her crush of the week or something?”

Lachlan laughs at that, shrugging his shoulders again. I’m starting to wonder what exactly happened in the car ride from Lally’s Club to my house because it clearly wasn’t Lachlan asking any fucking questions.

“Were they going to kill her?”

“Most likely,” Lachlan admits, sighing heavily. He looks exhausted, and I remember he had a job tonight. Knowing Lachlan’s specialties, I’m not surprised he would be mentally and physically drained after that. “They fucked up, and Rosie’s the only one with the full story.”

Rosie—I try not to grind my teeth at the stupid nickname. It used to bring me comfort, the idea that my brothers were so accepting of the woman I love despite her loyalty to someone other than the MacAlisters. Now it pisses me off.

“That’s why they scorched her Marker?”

Each of the Four Families have their own identifiers that mark their people. The MacAlisters have our rings, the 714 wear their Cuts, and the RMF proudly display their tattoos.

The GiGi’s have a “Marker”, and it’s fucking brutal; two large G’s branded into the side of their necks as an induction into the gang. Ginetta would only burn the Marker off before killing you for one reason.

“She’s a traitor.”

“Is she?” Lachlan raises one light brow at me, crossing both arms over his chest. Obviously, he wants me to say no, but I’m not sure why. He doesn’t make me guess, which is probably a good thing, considering I never could have imagined the next words coming out of his mouth. “Ginetta’s the one who turned her into a Honey Trap.”

Ginetta Ricci fucking swore to me that she wasn’t dealing in “underhanded sex trades” because she wouldn’t put any of her Girls in situations against their will. She also promised never to force Rosalind back into sex work, but here we are.

She will pay for breaking that promise.

“Who was she Trapping?”

Are they the father?

“Romans, as far as I can tell. Whatever ones she could get,” he shakes his head, disgust written across his face. “She caught the eye of Dodge Roman pretty early on, though. He became her main target about three years ago.”

Three years? I thought I’d imagined all the worst forms of torturing Rosalind in my time away from Forest Falls, but I was wrong. Making Rosalind use her body to get information out of your enemies is so low I hadn’t even considered it a possibility.

Shit. I accused her of fucking them willingly.

As I pull a nylon thread through the suture needle, Lachlan’s words rattle around my mind. For the first time, I wonder just how much of this story is new to him. Did he stand by and let this happen to her?

Does he know about the baby?

“She’s been collecting bits and pieces of information, but it was slow going. It took a while for him to trust her enough to start letting real information slip.”

“That’s surprising.” Dodge Roman isn’t exactly Fort Knox; he’s been known to let too much information slide through the cracks more than once in recent memory.

Lachlan snorts in agreement, adjusting his weight against the counter. “According to Rosie, he didn’t shut up once he finally started talking.”

“He told her everything.” I don’t have to look at my brother to know I’m right. Of course, Dodge folded. He told her everything she needed to know and more because he fell for the same bullshit that I did. Rosalind has this way of making you feel like she loves and needs you—like you’re her whole world, and she can’t live without you.

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