Page 67 of Scarred Sacrifice
I smirk. “We’ve never seen a dead body before! I’m freaking the fuck out,” one of the lap dogs complain.
Nyx slaps him upside the head. “Get it together, you fucking pussy. You see the women crying? You see my woman fucking crying, and she’s been slashed with a fucking blade. Grow a pair!” Nyx berates.
“Is he that bossy in the bed?” Clare whispers in my ear.
“Yeah,” I sigh.
“Damn girl, you hit the jackpot with that one,” she says.
“I sure fucking did.”
EPILOGUE
MORRIGAN
6 WEEKS LATER
“Tonight’s breakingstory is the evidence of hundreds of women, including young girls that were trafficked by billionaire, Henry Sparks. The FBI and CIA are surprisingly working together on this one to help track down Mr. Sparks, but so far haven’t been able to trace his whereabouts. It was believed Mr. Sparks’ charity in which he helped families from disadvantaged backgrounds was the smoke screen for his trafficking operation. Amongst Mr. Sparks, there are also other high-profile suspects that are being questioned in connection.”
We grin, raising our glasses as we toast the news. “To justice,” Eden cheers.
“To justice!” we all cheer together.
Bernie squeezes my hand. “Your mum would be so fucking proud of you, girl,” she says, her eyes stinging with tears.
I squeeze her hand back and swallow my own emotions. Now is not the time for sadness.
“Shhh! Look.” Eden points and turns up the TV to show a reporter.
“I’m here with Miss Smith,” the reporter introduces. I snort a laugh and elbow Bernie. “Miss Smith has kindly offered anyone affected by the Henry Sparks Crisis free therapy and rehabilitation, and any other help they may require at a place called the Hive. Miss Smith, that is quite an offer, and something that must put your refuge out of pocket,” the reporter asks Bernie.
Bernie looks down awkwardly at the microphone. “Er, yes. All of our services are free. We aim to help women that need it. Our centre is private and undisclosed publicly. We do this for women fleeing abusive relationships. We are opening our doors to all who have been affected by that asshole, Henry Sparks,” Bernie states.
I snort a laugh as the reporter quickly tries to pull the mic away from Bernie. “Thank you, Miss Smith. If you or anyone need the Hive’s help, then please contact the email listed below, and they will be in touch. This is Rachel Yates for News Ten,” she says.
“Well, let’s see if anyone reaches out,” Bernie says. No sooner have the words left her mouth, Betsy’s tablet starts pinging non-stop with incoming emails.
I look to them. “Shit, we are going to need to recruit,” I mutter.
Nyx grins, his fingers stroking the back of my neck. “If anyone can pull this off, it will be you. Whatever you need, I’m there,” he offers. He left the CIA once he handed the evidence of all of Henry’s trafficking, just in case anyone tried to shut it down. They gave him a pay-out as a thank you, and now he’s a full time member of the Savage Sisters. I am still trying to get him to wear a cut that says Property of Morrigan, which he adamantly refuses. I will wear him down eventually. I always do.
I place my lips to his. “Love you,” I whisper.
He presses his lips to mine. “All fucking mine,” he murmurs possessively across my lips. “Love you, Sparky.” He grins.
“Oh god, if you two are going to start humping again, I swear I will whip my bra off and burn it in protest!” Eden huffs.
I laugh and rest my head on Nyx’s shoulder.
“No, let them fuck! I want there to be babies.” Bernie grins.
“Fuck, no,” both Nyx and I say in unison.
We laugh and I look around. “Hey, where did Betsy disappear to?” I ask.
Eden and Bernie shrug.
BETSY
