Page 125 of Saved By My Buyers

“That would work,” Greg says. “They have a meeting in a week and a half. Let them meet, and then drain them all the next day. They’ll think that something spooked him.”

“How did he get her email?” I ask sadly. “I made certain it was as secure as possible.”

“It’s a free email. If he even got the barest idea of her new name, he could get someone to do it.” Greg explains. “It’s difficult to make her bulletproof. All you can do is your best.”

“I want to ruin his reputation,” I snarl. “I need to find a way to pin the photos on him without hurting Dahlia.”

“I can help with that as well. The Boxley gang is into a lot of shit, but they draw the line at child abuse, whether it be sexual, physical, or trafficking,” Greg says. “They sell skin, sure, but they’re all consenting adults who are selling themselves for sex services. If they knew that he was hurting children, they’d destroy him publicly through all of their media outlets. This gang is trying to gain legitimacy in this town, which is why they’re laundering money.”

“Holy shit,” I say. “Okay, yes. How are you going to get that information to them?”

“I infiltrated the gang,” he says. “I’m not as retired as I pretend to be.”

“Pretend?” I snort. “That’s the most blatant lie you’ve ever told me, old man. I don’t think that’ll ever happen. There’s been at least three times this year that you’ve fallen off the map.”

“Fuck,” Greg groans. “You know me too well. This apartment is shit, and I’m going to need a spa week after this mission is over. I haven’t forgotten about Dolly, okay? Gareth has gotten the attention of people in important positions. It’s bigger than we thought, but she needs to stay safe.”

“Yeah, she does.” I sigh, taking another long sip of my drink. I’m starting to feel warm, and know that’s a sign I need to stop before I get drunk. Snapping on the lid, I put it aside. “I could have lived the rest of my life without seeing her like that. Even my imagination wasn’t up to par with the evil in that photo.”

“Where is she?” he asks.

“Sleeping with Bee,” I grunt. “You going to be good? No matter what, we all make it back. It’s our motto and shit.”

Greg has always taken the hands-on jobs that a bodyguard couldn’t handle because he had to go undercover. It’s usually only a few weeks long if that, and then he’s back with his family.

Tori would fucking murder me if he didn’t come back one day. So we made an agreement with Tierney that no matter what, we’d always make it back.

“Yeah, I will. Those kids need me. They’re fucking hellions. Gotta go,” he says, and the line goes dead.

Blowing out a breath, I wonder how deep this all goes, and then I video chat my team to update them. It’s going to be a long night.

Dahlia

It’s hard to keep moving when I can see myself in that damn email every time I close my eyes. There’s only one thing right now that will help, so I’m writing before I have to go into work today.

Sunday was spent in bed with movies with Jack and Bee, because I didn’t want to human. I didn’t have any spoons left to be able to do anything, and I love that Jack and Bee just went with the flow.

But now, I have to stitch myself together and go to work and school. Bee is working and then has an interview today to get into graduate school to get her masters in social work. After she finishes this two year program, she’ll be able to get licensed to practice.

I’m so proud of her, and glad she took a year off to decide where she wanted to go next. The reflection was good for her I think. I’m also a little selfish because it means I’m able to get more time with her.

My phone rings, pulling me from my thoughts. Jack said he would call me to remind me when I needed to leave. I’m meeting Ciara downstairs, and I mentioned being worried I would be late.

I feel really spacey and weird after this weekend, almost disconnected. I have an appointment set tomorrow for my therapist, so I’m hoping it’ll help.

“Hi, Jack,” I murmur, putting my notebook to the side. Bee and Jack went to work earlier than I needed to be, so I’m still in my pajamas.

“Hey, beautiful,” Jack says warmly. They’ve been extra loving the last few days, and the support has been helping. It’s as if the photo untethered me from the life I’m building, and now I’m floating in space.

It’s hard to explain, but it’s my truth and how I’m feeling today. “I lost track of time the way I worried I would,” I say, standing up to walk toward my room to shower. Jack cleaned so well, I can’t smell my horror anymore.

Because that’s what it was.

Living, breathing, trauma smacking me in the face.

“Slow your breathing, Dahlia,” Jack rumbles. I’m gasping for air, and I lean against the doorframe, closing my eyes to remind myself that I’m safe and Gareth can’t touch me.

“Thanks,” I whisper, practicing mindful breathing. “I’m going to jump in the shower and get ready.”

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