Page 97 of Burn With Me

I shake my head. I’m not stupid. “Pictures can’t do shit for these girls,” I say. “By the time he gets them, they’ll be long gone.”

“So what do you want to do?”

I don’t know.Fuck!I have to think.What do I do?My hands squeeze the rim of the crate harder. A splinter stabs into my palm. I hardly even feel it beyond the rage consuming me. I take a step back, turning away from the box.

“Close it up,” I snap through gritted teeth.

Shep stares at me. “Dude, are you serious?”

“Do you have a better plan?” I demand. “We can’t get caught or no one can help them. Releasing them puts everyone at risk.”

“So you’re just going to let them go?”

I shake my head. “No.” I breathe through my nose. “We’ll go back to the party—show our faces. I’ve got some bugs and trackers in my car. Text Paris. Have him grab them. We’ll mark each of these boxes. I’ll give Agent Brown the tracking information and we’ll let him handle the rest.”

Shep continues to look at me, but I can’t even meet his gaze. He moves past me and my body tenses. He lifts the crate’s lid back into place, the wood creaking. Unsurprising, the girl inside doesn’t make a sound. Vomit threatens to come up my throat. Behind me, Shep slams something into the crate’s lid, likely making sure it’s solid and that it won’t be revealed that someone’s already opened it.

I move towards the door, but Shep’s words give me pause. “You knew he was planning something,” he reminds me. “You told us it was trafficking.”

My head lowers as my hand lands on the doorknob. “Yeah,” I say. I look back at him. “It’s one thing toknow, but it’s an entirely different thing to see it for myself.” There’s no more denial. I thought I’d long left hope that Damien was better than I expected in the past but apparently not.

Disgust rolls through me. Knowing his blood runs through my veins makes me feel sick down to my bone marrow.

“We’ll help them, man. We’ll set them free.” Shep’s words are meant to be an assurance. Instead, I take them as a vow.

Whatever Damien Icari does, I swear to myself—and to whatever Gods are left in this forsaken world—I will fucking stop him. Even if it kills me.

44

RORI

The first person I see upon my return to the ballroom is none other than my mother. Thankfully, her new husband is not at her side when she spots me and hurries my way. I glance over her shoulder, searching the room to see if Isaac has returned, but I don’t see him. Another figure I don’t see is Eric. Good. Maybe he left. I can only hope so.

“Rori!”

I swallow and straighten my shoulders, pasting on a bright smile as my mother approaches. “Mom.”

Her brows pinch together and when she reaches for me, I subtly move back to keep her from automatically trying to enfold me in a hug. “I’ve been searching everywhere for you, darling,” she says. “Where have you been?”

“Fixing my makeup,” I half-lie. I’d ended up stopping by the bathroom on the way back—after finding one of the employees to lead me since I did, in fact, get lost. At least it gave me the opportunity to pull myself together and fix the mess that my face was after what happened with Isaac. “Was there something you needed? I’m sure Aunt Carmen could’ve helped you.”

“I thought you might’ve left,” she says, biting her lower lip. “I wanted you to know that I didn’t invite Eric. I had no idea he’d be here.”

Her words seem sincere, and for a change, they actually make the pain in my chest ease. At least she’s not that far gone as a mother. My shoulders slowly lower and I nod. “I know, Mom,” I say quietly.

Her lips press together and she folds her hands in front of her, the knuckles whitening as she tightens her grip. “I can’t believe Damien would invite him,” she confesses. “I’msosorry. I don’t even know why he came in the first place.”

She shakes her head as if she can’t believe it, but I can. Damien is a controlling bastard and he’s vindictive. At least, that’s what this little action of his has proven to me. He’s angry that I didn’t conform to his desires and he wanted to see a reaction, no doubt. Damien can’t outwardly punish me or he risks upsetting my mother, but he still wanted to do something. It wouldn’t have taken a genius to delve into my background and that of my mom’s ex-husbands to find out that there are issues between Eric and me.

Eric Wood, for his part, is a pompous asshole. Marcus might have beat the shit out of him, and my mother might’ve divorced him, but he still eventually got away with it. There was no trial. Only rumors. Only speculations. A man can survive under that. A fifteen-year-old girl, though? Yeah, no one fucking believed me. No one but my family.

When silence stretches between us, my mother unclasps her hands and touches my shoulder. “I’m sure Damien was just jealous or something—you know how men can get. I hope you can forgive him.”

Jealous? Yeah. Maybe. Doubtful, though. Damien Icari knows exactly what he was doing when he invited Eric Wood to his reception. The Icari men have a way of twisting their actions to make everyone around them play right into the palms of their hands. Unfortunately, I’m no exception.

“Actually, Mom, I wanted to talk to you about him.”

“About Eric?”

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