Page 32 of Ginger

Bronx squeezed my waist and pressed his lips to my temple. "We protect what's ours, little girl. You're ours."

My throat tightened with emotion. I wanted so badly to believe them, to trust that they could keep me safe, but experience had taught me that nothing good ever lasted.

"What if they hurt you?" I whispered, voicing my deepest fear. "What if they hurt you because of me?"

Vegas scoffed. "Have you forgotten who we are? What we do? These men may be dangerous in your world, but in ours?" He shook his head. "They're amateurs playing at being predators."

"You don't know Rayburn," I insisted. "He has connections. Political ones. He's untouchable."

"No one is untouchable," Vegas replied, his voice like ice. "Not to us."

Reno squeezed my hand. "Baby, we've been doing this a long time. We've dealt with politicians, police chiefs, judges—people who thought they were above consequences. They all learned differently."

I looked between the three men, seeing the absolute conviction in their eyes. They truly believed they could protect me. Part of me wanted to run—to disappear before I brought trouble to their doorstep. But another part, a part that was growing stronger every day, wanted to stay and fight.

"I need to know everything," Vegas said, returning to his chair. "Every detail about Rayburn. His businesses, his habits, his weaknesses."

"I don't know much," I admitted. "He owns several hotels, I think. And he collects things—art, antiques..." I swallowed hard. "People."

Bronx's grip on me tightened slightly. "People?"

I nodded, staring at my hands. "Young women, mostly. He... displays them. At parties. They serve drinks, entertain guests. They're like living decorations to him."

"Human trafficking," Vegas said flatly. "That makes this easier."

I looked up at him, confused. "Easier?"

A cold smile spread across his face. "It means we don't have to be careful about how we handle this. The gloves come off."

Reno stood, pulling me to my feet. "First things first. You're not going anywhere alone until this is dealt with. One of us will be with you at all times."

"I can't ask you to—"

"You're not asking," Bronx cut in. "We're telling you how it's going to be."

I should have felt trapped by their declaration. Instead, it felt like being wrapped in a protective blanket. No one had ever cared enough to protect me before.

"Vegas," Reno said, "we need to get the others up to speed."

Vegas nodded. "I'll call a meeting. In the meantime, Ginger and KiKi should head up to your new suite. Have some girl time.”

The idea of "girl time" with KiKi while everything was falling apart seemed absurd, but I recognized Vegas' suggestion for what it was—a way to keep me distracted and safe.

"We'll figure this out," Reno promised, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. The tenderness in his touch nearly undid me.

"I know," I lied, forcing a smile. I couldn't bear to see the worry in his eyes deepen.

As we left Vegas' office, Bronx kept his arm firmly around my waist, like he was afraid I might disappear if he loosened his grip. Maybe he was right to worry. The urge to run was almost overwhelming—to disappear before I could bring destruction to these men who had somehow become everything to me.

"I can hear you thinking," Bronx murmured against my ear as we walked. "Don't even consider it."

I glanced up at him, startled. "Consider what?"

"Running." His eyes locked with mine, seeing far too much. "You're not going anywhere, little girl. Not without us."

He stopped at the foot of the stairs, and Reno immediately pulled me against his chest, his lips finding mine in a kiss that felt desperate, possessive. When he finally pulled away, his eyes were dark with emotion.

"We're going to fix this," he said, his voice rough. "You're ours now. No one takes what's ours."

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