Page 104 of Bad Enough

The room went absolutely still as everyone held their breath.

Is this what they mean by a pregnant moment? It feels like the air weighs a hundred pounds. It actually hurts to draw in air.

She burrowed into his chest.

He exhaled in utter relief. Suddenly, the tightness in his chest lessened. His muscles unlocked. His brain booted back into life.

His eyes went to his team. One by one, they nodded their assent. Sylvan had been claimed. She was now tribe.

39

JUNE 19TH

Sylvan

Waters had been the one to break the silence that had infiltrated the room. “Okay, so put two and two together; we get someone named Gendry who is trying to reclaim Flame. Why the other girls, though?”

“Compensation,” came the muffled reply.

All heads turned to Sylvan. She unburied her head from TB’s chest. “If I’m right, and I was going to be used to pay off his debts, he lost a lot of money when I ran away. People in his line of work—they don’t accept mistakes, let alone apologies. Punishment would have been swift and costly. And if he’s angry enough to come after me all these years later, my guess is he lost almost everything.”

“Could he possibly, in that short amount of time, build himself back up financially to do this?” TB asked.

“It’s not impossible,” Sylvan hedged. “If he were punished for using the product and skimming from the profits, he would be denied access to inventory and suppliers. If he needed to make up for his losses quickly, running girls would be a fast way to do it. The risk is greater, but so is the reward, and he doesn’t need someone to supply him with the product. He can just go out and snatch it off the streets. He’s also stupid enough to have sold himself to a boss, especially if that boss supplied him with ways and means that would get him to me faster. It’s possible that the other girls were contingency plans to recoup some of his money if he couldn’t get to me, or… he could simply be rebuilding his stable of prostitutes.”

Waters cleared his throat. “So, that means these girls probably aren’t the first. They’re just the ones locally, or at least that we know of. Flame, we need you to help Midas. We need as much information as possible on this Gendry asshole. We confirm and reconfirm everything.

“Demon. Inventory the infirmary. Once we find those women, they’re likely going to need medical attention. Prepare for drug detox, open wounds from restraints, dehydration, possible broken bones, internal injuries, contusions, anything you can think of. Order whatever supplies you might need and have Cherry get them today if at all possible.

“Steel. Go through the armory. No telling what kind of firepower we’re going to need. Make sure everyone has enough extra clips for their personal gear, and then make sure there are enough flash bangs and tear gas canisters and that all the NVGs, masks, and gear are good to go. We’re likely going to be working in public areas, so not one speck of skin can show.

“Nemo. You’re on the trucks. I want three SUVs and a panel van. Fueled up, cleaned out, inspected, and reloaded. Then I need you to load them with whatever you can think of for a snatch and grab. Water, blankets, med kits, body bags. We know there are six girls, but who knows if there are more, and no clue how many douchebags we’ll need to transport.

“I want us to be one hundred percent ready the moment we know where he, or they, are.”

God had been inordinately quiet until now. “What about the triad?”

TB scanned the faces of the men around him. “They’re not traffickers. They’re something… else. Not recovery, not special forces. I don’t know. I trust them, but I don’t. If they knew Ka-Bar was a captive, they didn’t make any effort to retrieve him. However, they clearly know who he is, which means they know who we are and what we do, and they did pass on the information. And it’s clear they’re scouting out that club for something.”

Crinkling plastic could be heard over the speaker. Was that a sigh of reluctance? God’s voice, muffled by his caramel apple sucker stuffed in his mouth, gave the order. “Make contact,” God ordered. “We have fuck-all idea what we’re walking into. This could be the work of one giant asshole, or it could be something much larger. We could use the extra help. If need be, we’ll erase any problems after the fact.”

“Will do.”

TB turned his attention back fully to Flame. “Will you be okay with Midas for a little bit while I track down Loki?”

She nodded but squeezed him tightly.

“I’ll be back. As fast as I can. I promise, sweetheart.” He returned her embrace by wrapping his arms around her shoulders to pull her closer, and his lips lingered on her forehead. And then he was gone.

She sat with Midas and gave him every scrap of information she could remember about her parents, the drug route, and where they lived. That was hard. But what came after that was worse.

His voice was gentle but firm. “Flame? I don’t want to ask you, but I have to. I need everything you can remember about Gendry and your time with him.”

She stared at him. Helpless. Panicked. Her head hurt, her stomach churned, and everything felt like it was closing in on her.

“Breathe, Flame. If you pass out on me, TB’s going to kill me, and I don’t mean figuratively. It’ll be death by piñata punching.”

“Piñata punching?” she hiccupped.

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