Page 59 of I'm Sorry

Trace seems to think about my words like he actually has a goddamn choice in the matter, but he knows damn well he doesn’t. That’s the hardest thing for him to face, especially after climbing the ranks so quickly and becoming Ilya’s protégé, making decisions that people below us don’t get to make for years after becoming a Hellion. Hell, some—most—never make it there at all.

I snap my fingers in his face, then gesture for him to turn. “March your happy little ass back to that fucking trailer before I make a fool out of you and throw you over my shoulder and do it for you.”

If looks could kill, I’d be absolute mince-meat.But Trace knows I’d do it. His voice may be all deep and sultry, licking at every desire every woman or gay man has ever had, but his stature doesn’t quite add up. I could easily handle him in any way that I choose.

Silently fuming, Trace turns toward the trailer. He acts as if his trek is leisurely, but I know him well enough already to sense his misery. There’s a story there that I want to know. I wonder if it has something to do with him writing Benny out of his life.

“Yo, Hendrix, you got a sec?” I tap lightly on the trailer door because Ilya’s voice is rumbling through the thin walls. He’s been taking care of his usuals, like he always does while we are here, and I know better than to just go barging in on him.

“Come in.” The thunk of his phone landing on the table lets me know he isn’t in the best of moods. Great. But whatever. This shit is important.

Marquez has been a target we’ve held on a bit of a pedestal. Never quite pulling the trigger to go after. Not for lack of trying by the brothers, but more because Ilya has some hang ups. Knowing one of his members has now been personally offended by Marquez, might be enough to draw him out of this haze and allow us to do something about the asshole.

How personally Trace has been offended by Marquez, I’m not exactly sure. Judging by the way he’s suffering right now, I’d say this motherfucker is in love with the Ford girl. This isn’t just about finding the girl for his best friend.

I open the door and allow Trace to go in first. I promptly follow, pull the door shut, and lock it. Ilya catches my firm movements and instantly begins to judge the situation. One look at Trace has his brows pulling together.

Trace is locked up tight, fury and sorrow radiating off of him.

“What is it?”

“You want to tell him, or should I?”

“Spencer,” Ilya warns. I hold up my hands. Clearly, no one is in the mood for sarcasm today. Trace remains silent, a pillar of sheer willpower when he wants to crumble.

“Lennox Ford.”

Impassive, Ilya says, “What about her?”

“Leonardo Marquez has her,” Trace says dully. Ilya’s arms cross over his chest, but he cannot hide the way his fists pulse. Four times each. Then his chest dips twice.Poor bastard.

“You know this how?” he asks.

“Overheard some Chaos pricks talking about her,” I explain, because Trace is M.I.A. again, having succumbed to whatever is it his mind is berating him for.

“And? Why are you bringing this to me? She is of no importance.”

“But Marquez—”

“Marquez nothing. We are in no position to take on Marquez, not right now. He has not personally offended this organization—” I cut Ilya’s words off with a dry look. Most people don’t normally get to do things like that to him and live to tell about it, but I’m one of his favorites, his nephew after all. He won’t admit it, but we all know it.

This isn’t because of Trace’s new predicament, but I’m growing tired of Ilya’s excuses when it comes to Marquez. He has done so much that calls for his death, but Ilya refuses. “The reason you’re here is because Leonardo Marquez committed one of the utmost personal offenses toward you.”

Ilya cuts a glare at me that would’ve ended me if it were a knife. Straight to the jugular, no questions asked. It was a dick statement; I know. But it’s the truth, and he’s been hiding behind this nonsense for years. Normally, it’s not my place to get involved, and I typically couldn’t care less what other criminals do, but this one is hitting a little close to home. Namely, because of dickheads one and two, and well, sex trafficking—selling humans—is fucking wrong and we can do something about it.

I’m all for taking out some shithead humans who deserve it, but innocent women and children... Not my cup of tea. We’ve stopped shit like this before. Nothing stopping us from doing it again. Other than our leader.

Ilya starts to speak, but Trace cuts him off with a muttered confession. “I’ve been in love with Lennox Ford for most of my life.”

“And the plot thickens,” I chuckle… For a lot of reasons. One of them being we now have no choice but to go after Leonardo Marquez, and even for me, that’s a frightening thought.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVE

BENNY

Four months without her.

It’s been four months since my girl disappeared.

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