“Okay, well, they were a branch of that ring. A man by the name of Vincenzo Gianelli runs the American arm of the trafficking ring.” Nate shakes his head. “We need to give it a name instead of calling it the trafficking ring.”
“Oh! I like naming things,” Eric says with a sly grin thrown his brother’s way. “How about—”
Nate growls at him. “This is not the fucking time, little brother. Remember what happened the last time you pulled that shit?”
Eric’s pupils blow out at that, and I feel decidedly uncomfortable all of a sudden. He shifts in his chair, blows out a breath, and gets back to the subject at hand.Thank fuck.
“Vincenzo Gianelli,” I remind Nate when he looks blank for a second.
“Oh, yes, thanks. He’s a real asshole. Has his fingers in all sorts of pies, but his biggest racket is trafficking. He’s personally responsible for thousands of children and teenagers going missing every year and being sent all over the world. There’s a meeting coming up in the spring, where all the heads of each of the branches will be coming together for whatever the fuck it is they do during these meetings.”
Eric’s face goes hard, his eyes snapping with anger. “I don’t think I want to know what goes on.”
That’s something we can both agree on. Look at me being all cooperative and shit. Fuckers better be thinking about untying me soon. I’m pretty sure that’s a catheter I can feel stuck up my dick, and I won’t lie and say it’s comfortable.
“So, you want me to help you, what? Kill the bastards?”
Eric nods. “We’ve got his daughter—”
I blink rapidly at this information, but before I can ask, he continues. “She’s FBI and has been trying to take him down for years. We’ve joined forces with her and The Duke, and have you heard of the Charon Group?”
I nod in the affirmative, my mind is blown right now. Of course, I know who The Duke is, since I infiltrated her group. Fuck. Let’s hope she doesn’t kill me for that.
And the Charon Group is famous in the circles we travel in. Similar to the Bannerman brothers, they are world-class assassins. They do other jobs as well, but mainly act as executioners. Nate and Eric obviously don’t fuck around—they get the best of the best.
“We’re hoping they can get here in time to help out. They’re currently on another assignment in Paris. Dealing with a black widow or something. Anyway, we need as much help as possible. You on board?”
“You still haven’t told me about Rebecca. Why is she at that facility?”
“Right, sorry. Agent Gerhardt is her aunt.” Shock runs through me at that, stealing my breath. I had no idea. “She took Rebecca back to Chicago with her, and Rebecca …” Eric trails off, sliding his eyes away and looking decidedly uncomfortable.
“Rebecca what?” I grind out, worry lancing through me. I turn to look at Nate, imploring him to be straight with me.
He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “I didn’t just leave her behind without support, okay? The Duke lent me some of her men, and I had a couple keeping an eye on her. She spiraled apparently, and attempted to commit suicide.”
The pain in my chest multiplies and my breaths come out in panicked bursts. Twisting against the restraints, I shout out, “Get these off me! I need to go to her!”
Eric jumps up, pressing down on my shoulders, his face right in mine. I growl at him, snapping my teeth like a rabid animal. She needs me. I can’t just lay here when Rebecca is out there, hurting.
“Calm the fuck down before you open up your wounds,” Eric growls right back at me. “Do you know that you died three times already? Twice in the ambulance and once during surgery. Your injuries were fucking severe. You may be mostly healed up, but you’re not fully recovered. When you are, we’ll go back for her, okay? We won’t leave her behind.”
Nate leans forward, an earnest look on his face. “She needs help, Trey. Serious help. When the guys watching her told me what happened, I bought out the best treatment facility in Illinois. She’s receiving intensive therapy, and I’m receiving daily updates from her doctor.
“Right now, she’s practically comatose. There isn’t anything you could do for her, that the best therapy money can buy won’t give her. You need to rest and recover. Both of you. And once you’re on the mend, we’ll go back for her.”
It hurts, this separation. I can see what they’re saying, though. I had been worried about her myself, with her changing moods—one minute bubbly and happy, the next anxious and scared. Crying one minute, gleefully killing the next. Although I’d hate to admit that these assholes are right about something, I can feel how weak I am. I won’t be of any use to her until I can protect her, and right now she’s safe, getting the help she needs to be strong again.
Nate and Eric quietly let me digest it all before something they said has my brows furrow. “Wait—what did you mean when you said I’m finally awake? How long have I been out?”
Eric snorts. “Long enough to mostly heal up, get airlifted to an airfield, fly to London and be here for,” he looks at the date on his phone, “nearly two weeks.”
Raising an eyebrow at him, he sighs. “It’s been about five weeks since that night at the cemetery.”
Fucking hell. I’ve lost over a month?
“Okay, I’ll work with you. But there’s something we need to do first. As soon as fucking possible.”
Eric and Nate listen as I detail everything that needs to be done. When I get Rebecca back, I don’t want anything hanging over our heads.
