Page 38 of The Secrets That Kill

With a sigh, I pick up my glass of Lagavulin, take a sip, then answer.

“She’s fucking perfect, Mercer, and you know it.”

The growl in Orion’s tone is marred by the crackle in our connection. He must be using his cell in an area with a shitty signal.

I don’t know where he is in the world right now or what job he’s on. Like me, he plays his cards close. Unlike me, he’s got a reckless streak and a penchant for flirting with death.

Black Ops guys are always the same.

Or, in this case, ex-Black Ops.

I’ve known him a long time. He’s been the same way since the day we met. I think we recognized the drive for darkness in each other, even back then. We just go about achieving our goals in different ways.

“Forget it. I’m not using your little spy, Orion.” I flick to the other site on the Dark Web. “Besides, she’s got too many fucking problems to be a safe bet.”

“You’re in the wrong line of work, dude.”

I strain my ears to figure out where the hell he is. He’s definitely not in a bar, since there’s not much background noise, but then again, I really don’t give a fuck where he is. I do, however, give a fuck about the images on my screen.

“Maybe I am.” I scroll down the web page, narrowing my eyes. “Maybe I should have been a ‘guns blazing and burn the house to the ground with everyone in it’ kind of guy. Henderson is…”

The word is on the tip of my tongue.

Untouchable. Or at least he thinks he is.

“A fucking animal in a nice suit?”

I take another swallow of my scotch. “Not that nice. He either has a shit tailor or his tailor hates him.”

“Look, Merce, bring my girl in from the fucking cold. Use her. You know she’ll be great.”

“For you? I’m interested in what you want from me using her.”

Right now I’m bouncing my router connection around the world, protected behind my VPN because this is the kind of shit I don’t want knocking on my front door.

I don’t want Henderson’s team knowing I’m looking at this. Not yet.

But Jesus, it’s fucked up.

Girls for sale. Girls being used. The aftermath of brutal gangbangs. Videos. So many fucking videos.

This is propaganda at its finest. There’s something for every depravity out there. All the illegal shit the high-profile people don’t ever want getting out.

Normally, I wouldn’t give a fuck what kind of sick shit people do, as long as those involved are consenting. And hey, I know this is a deeply screwed-up planet. I know there are all kinds of monsters wandering around. I’m one of them. But Ruby fell right into this hell hole.

And as I stare at a woman whose face is swollen and shiny with bruises of the wrong kind blooming along her cheekbones with a split lip, anger builds within me, fast and hot.

I recognize the expression in her glazed eyes.

My mother would get that same exact look.

“Helping an old friend,” he says.

I grimace.Yeah, right. He wants something.

“Cara’s gone AWOL.” I take another swallow. “Hasn’t returned my calls or texts, so I found someone better.”

There’s a tight silence. “Who?”

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