Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“That’s not a bad idea,” Hollis said, lifting his eyebrows at Noah before looking over at Rowe. “Who would have thought you’d land a guy with a brain?”
“Hey, now! I’m not just a sexy piece of ass!” Noah shouted in mock outrage.
“I know you’re not, baby,” Rowe teased and Noah flipped him off. “It is a good idea. Do we have any ideas as to who the people might be behind the colors?”
Hollis shook his head. “I was inside of Jagger’s organization for months, but most of the people I encountered were lower level and involved on the drug side of things. I don’t know of anyone who was on the other side of things.”
“No names?”
Hollis shook his head again.
Ian looked away from Hollis, keeping eyes locked on the table because he knew what was coming and he didn’t have an answer. Well, not an answer that would help anyone. He didn’t know anything. The only people he clearly remembered were enforcers and Dwight Gratton, and he was dead now. He certainly wasn’t helping Jagger’s sex auctions.
But he had to know. There had to be something locked away in his head that would solve everything. He had been inside for years. Had been one of Jagger’s playthings. He’d seen the people who were a part of Jagger’s organization and yet he couldn’t remember what he needed to now. And because of him, there were kids waiting to be sold to pedophiles with no hope of going free. Any who survived would find their lives destroyed like the twins who had hunted down Rowe and Lucas.
He had to do something. He couldn’t run again. When he’d escaped Jagger with Rowe, Lucas, and Snow, he’d just wanted to get away. But leaving others behind had nagged at him for years. He couldn’t do it any longer. Shutting down Jagger wasn’t enough.
“Ian?”
Something in Rowe’s voice made him think that he’d said his name several times before his head finally popped up. There was worry in Rowe’s sharp green eyes like he knew the dark thoughts endlessly swirling in his brain.
“Do you know anyone? Any names that we could possibly give to Gidget and Quinn?”
“No,” he whispered, looking away from Rowe.
“I know it’s been a while, but you were there—”
Ian shoved away from the table, sending his chair crashing to the floor as he jumped to his feet. “I know I was there. I was at the parties. I-I saw people going in and out of Jagger’s office. I-I heard the laughter and the crude comments. And felt their touches. But they weren’t exactly handing out business cards. I don’t know!”
“Ian—”
“I need some air,” he announced and then turned on his heel. He snagged his coat off the couch in the living room, then hurried across to the front door. “I’ll take the dogs out.”
Like they understood English, all three dogs ran to catch up with him. They wiggled ahead of him through the door, nearly knocking him off his feet, but he had to smile when the German shepherd started playing in the snow. This much precipitation was unusual—at least the kind that stuck around this long. But already, the temperature had gone up, so the pretty stuff on the ground would start turning to brownish mush soon.
But for now, the dogs barked and ran the perimeter of the fence, enjoying the extra space to stretch their legs and play.
Ian closed his eyes, his frustration so intense, his muscles actually hurt. Something was nagging the back of his mind—something Gidget had said. Akeldama. He had no clue why, but just hearing the word had made every hair on his body stand at attention, and the dark memories had started creeping back to the surface. He instinctively shut them down, but he knew, he knew, that he had to bring them all the way up. He had to. That word was so unusual that for him to recognize it…
“Hey,” Hollis said, coming up behind him. He tugged a beanie over Ian’s head then messed with the sides until his ears were covered. Ian turned to face him. Hollis had a black one on himself.
Ian’s stared up at him. “It’s not enough that the others treat me like a kid?”
The tension that instantly filled Hollis alarmed Ian.
“What?” he asked.
“I don’t think of you as a kid. Not at all.”
Fuck. Hollis’s careful answer was another by-product of him knowing too damn much about Ian’s past. “I know I look kind of young, but I’m not even close to being a kid, okay? I’m twenty-seven.” Ian studied him, taking in the cheeks turning red from the cold wind. He didn’t bring up his forgotten birthday. “How old are you anyway?”
“Thirty-four. I’ll be thirty-five in August.”
“That’s not that big an age difference,” Ian pointed out. “I know the others sometimes treat me like I’m made of glass, but like I said last night, I don’t want you to do that.”