Page 89 of Forbidden Wish

“And you’re okay with that? Your family is okay with it? You always said your dad didn’t support Sersha’s career. Is this why?”

“Her history with Vex isn’t linked to her career. That’s not where it started. I’d rather he wasn’t in her world, but I can’t live Sersha’s life for her any more than I can live yours for you.”

“We have to make our own mistakes.”

“Yeah.” Somewhere beyond the room, a door closed, and muffled voices approached. “I’ll get going.”

“Lachlan,” she said, stopping him after just a few steps. Words weren’t enough. Going to him, she used his arm for balance as she rose onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “You’re a good brother. A good man.”

“Just not enough of one.”

As the trio piled in, Lachlan slipped out with only a nod of acknowledgement.

Not enough of one. What did that mean? Why couldn’t people just say what was on their minds rather than being cryptic?

“This madness has to stop now.” Strat. Damn. Trust him to be so forthright. She had to be careful what she asked for, even in her own head. “All of you running around the city like cowboys, like some damn white hat gang. Let the cops handle it.”

“The cops wouldn’t be handling it unless Imogen chased it down.”

Jagg. Why couldn’t he look at her?

Ford grabbed beers from the fridge and tried to offer her one.

She refused with an open hand. “I’m going to bed.”

“You don’t want to talk?” her brother asked.

Strolling away, the ache in her muscles begged relief. “We’ve done enough talking.” Nothing anyone could say would change where they were or her intention. “Thank you for your help, everyone. I need to sleep.”

Talking hadn’t got them far, not that day. Something else was needed, something more definitive. Instead of ifs and maybes, they needed confirmation. Certainty. The other side was bold. Maybe it was time for her side to adopt that methodology too.

THIRTY-TWO

SHE SLEPT. For a few hours. After waking with a start, getting back to sleep proved impossible.

Ludlow. Low level, and a driver, relied upon to get the right woman for the murderer. The right victim. Did he go out with a name, address, and picture or was the grab much more random than that? Those picked up from work or coming out of apartment buildings in nice neighborhoods could just fit the general description of the appropriate target.

Except the grab wasn’t completely random if “Bryan” was seeing the marks ahead of the abduction. Did he date every victim? After learning they held more than one woman prisoner at a time, it seemed unlikely. One man could only date so many women. Although he only dated them for a short time; no one mentioned a long-term partner. Was that the point? Bryan’s job was to scope out who could go missing with the least amount of fuss?

Or it could be more sinister. Did the johns paying to star in these films give criteria? Did they ask for a type? Maybe the Manzanis just sent out a newsletter listing who they had available. Yeah, that sounded despicable, but what else was it?

Evil. That’s what it was. Women used for the pleasure of men and why? For nothing more than a cheap thrill. These women weren’t dying for a reason. Not a valid one. It wasn’t war or glory, it was degrading and sordid.

Somewhere in that city Yvonne, Marcie, and Janine languished in fear. Were they being abused in that minute? Were they a comfort to each other or did hearing the screams of their comrades only ignite their own terror?

She couldn’t just lie there.

Sitting up, she took stock for just a second before jumping from her bed to get dressed.

Night was when the white hats slept, and it was when the criminal element did their most business.

Just like the first time she went to the hotel, she chose dark clothes, a hooded pullover, anything to blend in. And sneakers, in case she had to run.

Danger. All day people told her to avoid danger, and her plan was to visit the hornet’s nest. That didn’t stall her. No, she didn’t stop to think until her bedroom door was closed at her back and her eyes fell on Jagg’s just a few feet away.

When he found out about her previous visit to the hotel, his first question was if anyone had known her location. No, they hadn’t. If she went tonight and got caught up in something, or abducted and tortured herself, no one would know her last movements. They wouldn’t even know she got out of bed to go there voluntarily.

Their rule not to hide anything thrummed in the back of her mind too. That was why her feet took her into Jagg’s bedroom rather than out the door.

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