Page 161 of Give Me Redemption

What do we do?

We can’t take these girls outside like this. We need an ambulance; we need blankets. Dirty mattresses fill the space. There are no pillows, nothing to comfort them.

What kind of evil motherfucker could do this?

I look over at Monroe who’s clearly in his own head as well.

I look back at Chloe in my shirt. It swallows her whole. She looks uncomfortable, like the shirt is too heavy or something. I wonder how long she’s been without clothes.

“Chloe?” I say gently. “I’m Jace. I’m your sister’s boyfriend.” I step closer and she backs up.

I quickly stop. Fuck, what was I thinking doing that?

“I’m sorry,” I say to her. “I’m not going to hurt you. Is this all of you? Are there more anywhere else?”

She doesn’t say anything. One of the girls speaks up from the back. “There have been more,” she says, her voice quiet.

“Been?” Monroe asks.

She points to a small window at the top of the room.

Monroe and I lock eyes before I look back at the girl in the corner. I hate that they don’t have any clothes on. I focus on her their faces only. Sunken in, dirt-covered. Their hair is oily, their bones thin. They’re malnourished and pale. When was the last time they felt the sun?

“Are they outside somewhere?” I ask, but I think I already know the answer.

“Dead,” she says, barely whispering like if she says it too loud, they’ll all die this very instant. I’m sure some of them have wished for death. I’m sure they’ve wished they could killhim.

And then a thought slams into my mind.

“Fuck. Dalton.” I run out of the room as fast as I can, my eyes going to the trailer as I run to it.

And then my feet skid to a halt when a gunshot slices into the silence, followed by a second shot moments later. My ears ring, and my heart speeds up. My hands start to shake, my mind tossing back flashes of war. I reach up, holding on to Rocket’s dog tags, trying to get ahold of the panic threatening to overtake me.

I take in a deep breath and shake my head; my ears slowly stop ringing.

Get control, Grant. Come on.

I look up when I see the outline of Dalton’s body standing in the doorway of the trailer. She has the gun hanging from her fingertips.

“What the fuck happened?” Monroe says, running up to me. I don’t take my eyes off Dalton, though, and when the clouds shift and the moon exposes her, I see her expression.

A tear rolls down her cheek, her eyes filled with disbelief as she stares out. I take a step toward her; she focuses on me.

And then…she smiles.

She steps out onto the porch and runs to me. Jumping into my arms, she puts her face in my neck.

“I can breathe. Jace, I can breathe,” she cries. I hold on to her tightly, wrapping my arms around her back.

“It’s over, baby. It’s done.”

Monroe walks past us and into the trailer. Shots are fired, and I hold on to Dalton tighter. I don’t know why I’m having triggers. I’ve been to the gun range with Bryce a couple of times. I guess it’s the stress of this fucking evil-ass place.

Moments later, Monroe returns and Dalton slides down to her feet. “That was self-defense at its best,” he says to us. “Guy shouldn’t have fired at you, Dalton. He wouldn’t have if he knew how good your aim was. Right to the head, huh?” he says to her with a smirk.

“I take it you never called for backup?” he asks.

She shrugs. “I was getting shot at.”

---