by Bethany-Kris
“Do you want me to close mine, too, or ...?”
Penny glanced his way, but not at the window. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
He closed it. “You’re scared of flying.”
It wasn’t even a question.
Penny exhaled hard. “A lot of my bad memories usually start with me getting on a fucking plane. I was a toddler, flown to Asia to deliver my virginity to a businessman with a taste for babies. Do you know what the contract said? My father kept it.”
Luca’s stomach twisted.
She didn’t notice his discomfort.
“No, what?”
Penny shrugged. “Any physical damage—say a tear—would be corrected before I was returned. And it was. Wouldn’t want to ruin the goods completely. It couldn’t be sold again, right?”
“Jesus—”
“At five, I was flown to Cuba for a set of videos they filmed with a bunch of blonde-haired, blue-eyed girls and boys. We were the ones bringing in big money for the ring at the time. They wanted to get all they could out of it. Those videos were still making the rounds until I was eighteen, and someone with an ounce of talent with the dark web finally started pulling shit down. Of course, that means nothing for the creeps who still have their own files to jack off to, you know?”
“Penny—”
“I can keep going.”
Luca frowned when she met his gaze. “I know, I’m sorry.”
“Do you—do you really know?”
Sort of.
In details, mostly.
The experience was a whole other matter. He could sympathize and apologize, but he would never truly know what that had been like for Penny. The horrors of it affected him because he wasn’t an unfeeling monster, but it was also a reality that hadn’t been his own.
“Not really,” he replied, “not like you do. No one will ever know the things you know because only you lived that life.”
“Wrong,” she whispered. “There are thousands of girls out there just like me. And little boys, too. You put one bastard down that hurts these kids, and three more get smarter about the way they do business, Luca. Because that’s what it is. A multi-billion-dollar-a-year business. Children are the product they sell. And they’re treated like it, too. They don’t see little kids with broken souls. They just see something they want to fuck.”
How should someone reply to that?
Luca didn’t have the first clue.
“But yeah,” Penny said, chewing on her bottom lip and offering a hesitant smile, “I’m also scared of flying because I don’t like being thousands of feet in the air inside a tin can.”
“Helpless.”
Her blue eyes flicked away.
Not for long.
“You don’t like being helpless,” he said when her gaze found him again. “And so you’ve done almost everything you can to make sure that never happens again.”
Penny waved two fingers almost dismissively. “And yet, here I am being exactly that.”
“Because you’re on a plane?”
“No,” she muttered, “because they’re going to fuck everything up.”
“Who—The League?”
“Everybody.” Penny looked away, her hands clutching to the armrests of the white leather seats when the plane jumped from a bit of turbulence. Seeing her knuckles whiten the tighter she gripped the seat, Luca reached over to unlock one of her hands with his own. Wordlessly, he wove their fingers, keeping their palms tight, so she could at least have some sense of support. He didn’t acknowledge the way her hand trembled in his. Lower, she added, “And anyone else who gets in my way.”
Did that include him?
If that was the case, then Luca wasn’t sure how to settle the things he wanted and needed from Penny with hers.
Was he helping?
Or hurting?
Luca didn’t ask.
Couldn’t.
He feared the answer.
18.
Penny
“YOU knew that was going to be a problem.”
“Good to see you alive and well, too, Cree,” Penny said to her handler. “How was my trip to New York? Not bad. Almost got killed—unfortunately, Chase did end up with a couple of bullets in his back. But like Dare would say ... a hazard of the job. A little help from my problem here,” she added, jerking a thumb in Luca’s direction, “and everything was fine until you guys finally decided to show up and demand I leave. All in all, nothing incredible. What about you?”
Steadfast and unbothered by her attitude, Cree stood at the end of the complex’s hallway with his arms folded over his broad chest. He might have talked to her, but his gaze nailed to the man at her side.
Luca.
“You were forewarned,” Penny said. “By Renzo, I assume. Because there was no way in hell he would keep something like my new friend off the record. Right?”
Cree frowned. His one and only show of emotion as his attention moved to Penny with a slowness that spoke of his displeasure without needing to say a thing. “Of course, but forgive us for thinking you would have enough sense to lose the problem before we had to do it for you. That was the agreement before, wasn’t it?”
“I always love when people talk about me when I’m right there,” Luca said, stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans like he was conversing with old friends. “It’s funny how everyone who does it thinks that I can’t hear them. I have ears. They work perfectly fine.”
That didn’t make things better.
Cree’s jaw flexed when he muttered, “You weren’t invited to this conversation in the first place. Excuse my ignorance for keeping you out of it all the same.”
“All right,” Penny said, putting up a hand. “Restart for a second. I wasn’t given much of a choice but to bring him along, okay? At least like this, with him here, we have control of one problem on our hands. Think about it.”
Luca turned her way.
Slightly.
Subtly.
She could feel his gaze burning into her with questions right on the tip of his tongue. He was also a smart enough man to keep them inside his own mind. For now. It wasn’t that he hadn’t given her a choice entirely because she agreed to bring him along to Nevada. And if she really wanted to lose Luca, she could without trouble.
But it was better to have him in view.
He was also ...
On her side.
Maybe he hadn’t said as much, but he didn’t have to. Penny knew it. At the moment, she wasn’t sure who else would have her back if she needed it but chances were, Luca was one she could count on. His only motive for being anywhere near her was her. He didn’t care about the rest, and she would be stupid not to see that for what it was.
Or use it.
If needed, she thought.
Cree let out a heavy sigh, eyeing the man beside Penny before he finally said, “Well, keep in mind that someone else in this building has already decided how he wants this problem to end, Penny. I didn’t know you to be the type who dragged innocents into something they had no business being involved with in the first place.”
“I’m not innocent,” Luca returned.
Even though he shouldn’t.
“We know exactly who you are, Luca Puzza. And your father and mother ... your sister, her husband and their child, even. How’s his first year in the private academy going, anyway? Our Sisters of Perpetual Sorrow—quite a name for an educational facility, isn’t it? I’m sure the students of the faculty appreciate the irony. Then again, what would I know? My education never happened within the sanctity of four walls.”
Luca tensed.
Penny didn’t hesitate to reach over and grab his wrist to keep him from doing anything else he might be considering. Like moving forward or even voicing a threat that he couldn’t take back. Cree was testing him—he might not know it or see it for what it was—but she did.
“Enough,” she told Cree.
“He should know,” the Native man returned, “that this is
not a game and even if it were ... we would always win.”
“You made your point.”
“But did I?”
Penny squeezed Luca’s wrist, and leaned closer to murmur, “It’s fine, I promise.”
“Not sure a word is worth much here,” he replied.
Well ...
He wasn’t entirely wrong.
“Back to the task at hand,” Cree said from the other end of the hallway, “I assume your ... new friend can make himself comfortable? You’ll rejoin him shortly, Penny. You have other things to attend to upstairs.”
Right.
Dare.
Should be fun.
DARE DIDN’T TURN TO greet Penny when she first entered his office but that wasn’t anything unusual. Instead, he faced the massive screens that covered the entire wall behind his desk. Split into several mini views of the security cameras, they panned different sections of the complex, but he only seemed to be watching one in particular.
Luca.
“Look at that,” Cree muttered beside her. “He managed to find the music room.”
“I allowed him to. Better the enemy you know than the one you don’t,” Dare replied. All she needed was the tone to know he was pissed and balancing on the edge. The tension in his shoulders when he shook his head was a pretty good indicator, too. “Otherwise, he was just wandering halls and checking doors. He shouldn’t be here at all.”
“Quite aware, Dare. You shouted so loud when they first arrived that I’m positive anyone inside the complex right now heard it and knows he’s here.”
“I’ve had just about all of your smart ass comments that I can take today, Cree.”
“Fair enough,” Cree returned.
“But you.”
Dare swung around all at once, the scowl etched into his face looked deep enough to stick permanently. He pointed a finger at Penny like it was supposed to mean something to her, but she only stared back, unaffected.
“Yes?” she asked.
“We have enough problems on our hands without you adding more to it for us to handle,” he said, arching a brow as though he expected her to deny it. “And what did you do? Exactly that, Penny. You created another mess for me to clean. You know what I should do? I should have the man killed and buried out there in the desert. That would solve everything.”
Her heart dared to stutter in her chest, skipping a beat and clenching painfully at the very idea this might not end the way she had hoped it would by bringing Luca here.
Dare didn’t make threats.
Not ones he wouldn’t keep.
It was that reason alone Penny was quick to say, “No, you won’t.”
“Excuse me?”
Two pairs of eyes drifted her way, their curiosity and disbelief burning brightly. She wasn’t willing to rehash her previous conversation with Cree from downstairs, but she also didn’t think she had to. The clench of Dare’s jaw was enough to tell her that he had probably already heard it through one of his many cameras and knew she was right.
If he wanted Luca dead, it would be done.
Undoubtedly.
“There are at least a dozen members inside The League’s complex at any given time,” Penny said, shrugging. “Coming and going ... doing whatever the fuck you want them to do when they’re not out on a job. If you wanted my companion dead, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation, and he wouldn’t be tuning the piano right now.”
That comment had both men looking at the screens. Sure enough, Luca had opened the Baby Grand and already had a little box of tools they kept beneath the piano opened in front of him while he leaned over the side to work. Despite being alone in an unfamiliar place, one that felt like danger the second a person stepped inside the building, he didn’t seem very concerned about his predicament.
He was either crazy.
Or ... something else entirely.
Penny didn’t know, but she would be foolish to say a part of her didn’t like it. Because she did.
“Someone would already be moving his corpse while you told me it was inevitable. Am I wrong?” she asked.
Dare openly glared.
He didn’t deny her words, though.
Quietly, Cree told her, “I requested that he step back and try to handle the Luca situation in another way. For you.”
That was surprising.
Penny didn’t show it.
“Downstairs, you acted like—”
“Like you disobeyed orders and instructions,” Cree interjected, “because you did. It’s the whys that interest me more, Penny. I’m just not sure you’re willing to discuss those reasons quite yet.”
Well ...
She changed direction.
What was the point of this conversation, anyway?
“Are you sure the meeting in Hell’s Kitchen was a trap set to draw me out?” she asked Dare.
“Without question.”
“And why wasn’t it caught?”
Dare scrubbed a hand down his face, the frustration rushing back to his features in a blink. “Because your feelings got in the way and I seem to indulge the emotional needs of my people instead of telling you all to shove it up your fucking ass—”
“Dare,” Cree spoke up, not unkindly.
“It’s true!” Anger exploded from the normally cold man, his red blazer unbuttoning from the force of his arms flying outward wildly. “We all knew she wouldn’t be able to turn her back on the idea that a girl needed help, and we fed her right into the mouth of a wolf. We lost a damn good member of this organization because one of us wasn’t willing to send her on that job alone. All because not a single one of you wanted to look at her and tell her no. She is not a child. The rest of them, they’re not children, either. They know what they signed up for here. If we just stopped factoring in the way we feel about these people, Cree, and focused on their jobs—”
“They’re not robots. You tried that. They—”
“Oh, fuck off.”
Cree quieted.
Dare made a harsh noise under his breath, telling Penny, “We didn’t do nearly enough homework on what we were dealing with—had we done so before sending you to New York on a last-minute wild goose chase, then we would have seen what they didn’t want us to. That they were using the same tactics we did to draw them out. It’s not a mistake we’ll make again. Any side trips after this will not be happening.”
Penny didn’t blink. “Fine. What about the rest of The Elite?”
“Renzo passed along the information about that side of things, I assume?”
“A little,” she said. “I want to hear the rest from you.”
“They’re working with what they have. Which just changed into a whole lot more than we might be able to handle.”
“And what does that—”
Dare reached over and tapped a key on his laptop, silencing Penny instantly when the screens switched from security camera views to something else entirely. The pyramid made up of faces had changed since the first time she saw it. Now, a few of the faces were grayed out with a large, red X crossing over their images.
Men ...
Women.
All her victims.
Five years worth of her life stared at her from the glowing wall. Five years of hard work and pain to X out the few she had managed to end. After training that could only be described as complete and total hell, years overseas dismantling one organization kill by kill ... she had finally come back home.
Here.
To get all of them.
The faces of The Elite watched her without movement or emotion. Yet, despite only being digital photographs, their presence and lives were still all too real to her. Especially the two pictures at the very top.
Neither had an X.
She hated that the most.
Unable to look away from the top two images—the people who controlled the innermost aspects of the pedophile ring—Penny ignored the sinking sensation in her stomach. That wasn’t real, she had to tell herself. The
y no longer had the power to hurt her but especially not their images. She refused to even think their names.
“After a discussion with your boss,” Dare said, “we’ve decided that it would be the right choice to call off any further hits on The Elite until we have a better idea of what we’re dealing with.”
Stay calm.
Maintain composure.
She didn’t look away from the screens.
Couldn’t.
Still ...
“Why, because they’re fighting back now?” she demanded. “Sounds like we just need to ramp up the pressure. If a little made them crack, then a lot will make them break.”
“We need a safe route from—”
Penny scoffed, her sharp gaze finally cutting to Dare and breaking the haze she’d been in while staring at the screen. “Nothing about this was ever safe. We knew the risks. I know the risks and agreed anyway. It was the only way. You don’t get to decide when the risks become too much for me to take, Dare. It’s my choice.”
“Actually, it’s not. You didn’t pay for your training and position. You don’t make the final calls on the plans. You have a boss—”
“If we give them even a month to recoup, then it’ll be like starting over!”
They had too much money.
Way too much power.
It would be stupid to let The Elite have even a second to start digging backward toward Penny and The League. They already had the bone; now they were just looking for the rest of the skeleton.
“I agree,” Dare said calmly, “but in the last day, circumstances have changed and we have to consider what it means.”
“I don’t—”
“I know, Penny. You know nothing. You’ve been unplugged and underground, and then on a plane. I don’t expect you to already know, just understand.”
Dare hit another key on the laptop. The screens changed again to a news anchor sitting behind a desk ready to report—something Penny hadn’t expected. What did this have anything to do with their current situation?
