Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“Let us help,” Dean says, stepping forward. “I’ve got men, resources. We can track him if you coordinate with me.”
Chloe lifts a palm in a calming gesture. “I appreciate the offer. Truly. But let the police handle it for now. We have a task force and jurisdiction in Saint Pierce. If Lazarus tries to flee internationally, we can coordinate with the FBI. We just need to keep the lines clean.” She glances at the bullet graze on Dean’s shoulder, eyebrow arched. “And you have your family to worry about right now.”
Dean’s features tighten, but he nods, conceding the point. “Fine,” he says. “But if you need me—”
She offers a small, empathetic smile. “You’ll be my first call, believe me. We’ve been trying to pin Lazarus for years, and now that we have his associates in custody, we might finally get the evidence we need to extradite him back to Italy.” She brushes another stray strand behind her ear. “We almost had him last year, but he ended up weedling his way out of that mess, too.”
Exhaling, I slip my hand from Lincoln’s side, running it through my disheveled hair. “What about Morris? Will he… be put away for good?”
Chloe’s eyes glint with satisfaction. “Morris is wanted on multiple charges across state lines. With the testimonies from the other women in another container close by—” her gaze flicks to me and Sophia, “—plus your own statements, he’s looking at a long sentence.” She hesitates, then continues more softly, “I’m truly sorry for what you both went through. You saved a lot of future victims by exposing his operation.”
My cheeks heat, a swirl of conflicting emotions churning in my chest mainly at the relief he’ll be punished, and guilt for not spotting the threat earlier. “We just did what we had to,” I murmur, swallowing hard.
Chloe nods. “And I thank you for it. For months, I suspected Livvy and Tyler were luring vulnerable people into their trafficking ring, but they covered their tracks well. Now we have them both, plus Morris. It’s a huge win.” She offers a gentle smile before turning a more solemn look on Dean. “Again, I’m sorry about Lazarus.”
Dean’s expression is bleak, but he nods. “We’ll find him,” he says, voice low. “He’s not going to terrorize my family anymore.”
Chloe sketches a salute, her eyes flicking to me, to Sophia, and to Lincoln. “If any of you recall details—anything that might help us nail Lazarus’s whereabouts—call me.” She fishes a card from her jacket, handing it to Dean. “And if you need to talk, or you realize you have more information about their operation, any detail could be critical.”
I watch as Chloe’s determined posture seems to sink a bit, likely from the weight of the night’s events. She’s probably exhausted, too. “I have to coordinate the cleanup here,” she says, lifting her phone. “Take care of yourselves. You all deserve some rest.”
Then she’s off, striding through the swirling lights and chaos, weaving around officers who are bagging evidence. I exhale, the tension ebbing slightly. Morris is going away for a long time. Vera and Trey—or whatever their names may be—are finally in custody. A sense of victory stirs, but it’s overshadowed by the reality that Lazarus escaped. Who knows what he’ll do next?
Dean’s gaze returns to me, softened by concern. “You two all right?” he asks, flicking a glance between me and Lincoln. I’m pretty sure he’s not talking about just the physical injuries.
Lincoln meets my eyes, and a flood of unspoken emotion passes between us. “We’ll manage,” he says quietly, his tone gentle. “We should probably get them checked out at a hospital, though. Isabel’s been through a lot.”
My exhaustion hits me in a rush, and I let out a shaky laugh. “I guess a doctor’s look-over wouldn’t hurt. I feel like a wreck.”
Dean nods, relief in his stance. “Then let’s get out of here,” he says, turning to wave over some of his men, who are standing guard near a battered SUV. Sophia leans on him, still shaky on her feet. I step forward, intending to help, but Dean shakes his head. “It’s all right,” he murmurs, hooking an arm around her. “We’ll follow you. Let’s get the hell away from these docks.”
I swallow, glancing once more at the container-strewn port. My skin crawls thinking about what might have happened if Dean and Lincoln hadn’t arrived in time. If Lazarus had succeeded in shipping us abroad… My jaw clenches. Never again, I vow silently.
Lincoln slides a careful hand over my back, guiding me toward his truck, which is parked near a line of police cruisers. I lean into his warmth, letting his presence ground me. The police lights flash against the dark sky, illuminating the wreckage of this violent night. Officers still swarm, gathering statements and hauling unconscious or cuffed criminals into squad cars. Part of me wants to break down sobbing in relief. Another part just wants to curl up somewhere safe, away from prying eyes.