Page 90 of Captive Audience
He gave a sharp shake of his head. “Don’t even say his fuckin’ name. He’s like the Candyman. Mention him enough, and he shows up, has everyone killed. Your crew. Your family. Your fuckin’ dog.”
“Maybe we don’t need you to talk.” Aidan patted him down and pulled out a burner. He opened the old-school flip phone and punched in a code. He tried again, then said, “Bingo. One, two, three, four. Real original.”
Chains made a face. “Fuck. Come on, man.”
I shoved him against the wall again. “Shut up.”
After half a minute of scrolling, Aidan said, “It’s all here. Look at this shite.”
I tossed Chains to the floor and pointed at him. “Stay, or I’ll put bullets through both kneecaps.”
Aidan handed me the phone.
The screen was filled with names, dates, and prices. One folder was labeledClient Requirements, and another was labeledSTD Status.
I felt sick looking through it.
Latina. 15 to 20. Big tits. Big ass. No hookers.
Black. 14 to 16. Virgin.
White. 20 to 30. Real breasts. Real red hair. Client will refuse fake.
Ice chilled my veins. This was the description I’d found on Lorenzo Tate’s phone the night I’d killed him for following Asha.
She could’ve ended up in this piss-reeking box, terrified and on her way to fuck knew where with no one to save her.
My fingers tightened until the phone trembled in my hand. I bit back my fury and opened another folder. This one contained dozens of photos of young women, drugged or unconscious. Some bound, some crying. Every race, shape, and size imaginable.
And then I saw her.
Sierra.
She looked thinner, bruised around one eye, but it was the same girl Asha had been searching for.
I showed Aidan the photo.
He dragged a hand over his face. “Fuck.”
This…this was bad news.
I couldn’t tell Asha about what we’d found tonight. I already knew what my willful, self-sacrificing Wildfire would do when she learned the same person was behind Niall’s murder, Sierra’s disappearance, and a human trafficking ring. She’d useCaptive Audienceto provoke the Soul Collector into revealing himself and alert the public to what was happening in this city.
Without locking her up, I doubted even I could sway her from that course of action.
And the publicshouldknow. Each moment we stalled, we risked another girl being snatched off the street.
But there were so many ways that could backfire. My biggest concern was Asha’s safety. The thought of her landing in the Soul Collector’s crosshairs was enough to put fear in the black heart of a stone-cold bastard like me.
And if Asha used the podcast and the Soul Collector didn’t come looking for Inferno, he could easily go to ground, making himself impossible to find.
It wouldn’t stop the trafficking ring. They would simply start up in another city. Same fucked-up MO, same consequences.
The Beasts needed to stop the Soul Collector and his operationnow. Discreetly.
Starting in this hell box.
In one smooth motion, I drew my pistol, aimed it at Chains, and put a bullet in his head.
