Page 147 of Into the Woods

“Almost there, Becca,” Court whispered. “Hang on, princess.”

I managed a small nod, the burning urge to cry building behind my eyes. I squeezed them shut but was immediately flooded by the memory of the viewing room. Of the women and kids. Of the cages and Cami begging me to help her.

A sob ripped free of my throat before I could stop it.

“I know,” he murmured, his arms tightening around me.

Night had long since fallen, but the sky was bright with colored lights streaking through the darkness. Fire glowed in several places, and I spotted a few burning cars. Farther away, it looked like the fire had spread from the pier to engulf one of the vessels.

Fancy-dressed people were clumped in groups on the dirty parking lot and patchy grass, some with their hands zip-tied behind their backs.

“Lieutenant Striker?” Court asked, bringing us to a stop.

“You are?” a brusk, no-nonsense voice demanded.

“Court Woods,” he replied. “Trick said we should ask for you.”

“Ah,” she mused. “Part of Phoenix?”

I felt him nod.

“Is she one of the rescued women? We’re setting up triage over there. Social workers are on their way to help with housing and treatment.”

“This is… She’s not one of them,” Court finally answered.

There was silence, and I got the sense that the lieutenant wasn’t a fan of vague answers.

I looked up, taking a gamble that this was safe ground, since Court had spoken his name and Trick had vouched for the lieutenant .

“My name is Rebecca Whittier,” I supplied. “I came here with Eric Lambert-Durand.”

Lieutenant Striker was a tall, leggy brunette with sharp eyes that appeared almost violet. The smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose might’ve been cute, if I didn’t think she’d punch me in the teeth for saying so. She commanded the very air around us, even if she was a few inches shorter than Court.

Her brows lifted as I spoke. “You’re the inside girl.”

Court stiffened.

“Relax,” Lieutenant Striker assured him, then sighed and cracked a tiny smile for me. “Are you all right, Rebecca? Do you need medical attention?”

“No, ma’am,” I answered. Even though she had a decade on me at best, I felt compelled to be as polite as possible. “And it’s Bex.”

“Bex,” she confirmed with a nod. “We need to debrief you—”

“I’m getting her the fuck out of here,” Court snarled.

The lieutenant huffed out an annoyed breath, her eyes flashing. “If you would let me finish,” she said, her tone sharp as a razor before softening as she spoke to me. “That can wait until tomorrow, when this circus has cleared out. Trick, Royal, and I already came to an agreement. You’re free to go with your friend.”

“Friends,” I corrected.

Her strangely purple eyes flicked to Court, a perfectly sculpted brow raising.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said in reply.

She planted her hands on her trim hips. “Thank you for your assistance tonight.” She jerked her head behind her. “I believe you know where to catch your ride?”

He nodded.

“Take care of yourself, Bex,” she said to me. “We’ll speak soon.” Her gaze moved behind me. “Motherfucking, cock-sucking roaches.” She swore enough to make a sailor blush. “When I find out who called the press, I’m making earrings out of their balls.”

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