Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 122242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
She blinks rapidly, her mouth opening and then closing. Once, and then again.
"They held you against your will, forcing you to work for them without pay. You were tortured and abused. By definition, that makes you a slave. Our immigration law is written in such a way that allows for removal proceedings to be initiated against anyone who participates in drug or human trafficking."
She stares at me for a long time, not speaking. So many different emotions swirl through her eyes I can't pick them all out. What I do fnd feels like knives in my stomach, ripping into my guts. Even now, after weeks of being out from under their thumbs, she's still afraid. They're still hurting her.
"He'll come back," she mumbles, her face paling. She lifts a hand to her throat like she can't breathe. "As soon as he gets a chance, he'll come right back. He'll blame me for being deported. They all will."
"No, Faith," I whisper, grabbing her arms and shaking her gently. "He isn’t coming back. And no one is going to hurt you because of him.” I pull her into my chest, wrapping my arms around her.
"He got sent back to Russia because of me."
"No. He got sent back because of what he did to you. You were an innocent sixteen-year-old girl. They kidnapped you, held you against your will, and forced you to work for them for five years. They hurt you, little bunny. Even now, they still hurt you." I grind my teeth together, furious over that fact. "He's lucky he's being sent back instead of buried in a shallow grave like he deserves. Don't you dare feel sorry for him."
She tenses, pulling back. I reluctantly let her go, tipping my head down to see her gaping up at me.
"I don't feel sorry for him," she whispers, her voice seething with anger. "I hate him. I hate all of them." Her expression falls, misery sweeping in to take the place of anger. Her hand trembles as she reaches up to touch my face. "I don't want them to come for you. Don't you understand, Octavio? You're the only good thing in my life. I don't want them to take you from me like they've taken everything else. They can't hurt you because of me."
Somehow, my heart fills and breaks at the exact same second.
"They won't," I vow. How could they take me from her when I belong to her completely? Cristo, I have for weeks.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" I growl, taking a threatening step toward the man standing on my doorstep with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.
"I came to apologize to her," Sanders says, holding his hands up in the air as if to say he doesn't want to fight.
"And what makes you think she's here?" I ask, blocking the door with my body. There's not a chance in hell he's going to see her or say a word to her. Fuck that. He doesn't deserve to breathe the same air as her.
"Heard you pulled her detail," he says with a shrug. "Figured there were only so many reasons you would do that, and since you threatened me if I came near her again…well, I didn't graduate at the top of my class for nothing, Hernandez."
"And yet you came here hoping to find her anyway." I curl my hand around the doorframe, trying to prevent myself from grabbing him by the shirt and plowing my fist into his face. Faith's still in bed. She's been restless the past couple of nights, clinging to me and crying out in her sleep. Talking about Tarasova and what she went through, coupled with Remi Pledger breaking into Roman's a few days ago, has messed with her head. The last thing she needs right now is to see this pendejo on our doorstep. And I don't want him knowing she's here. I don't trust him.
"I just want to tell her that I'm sorry."
"I'll be sure to pass it on the next time I see her," I lie, cocking a brow at him. "You can go now."
He huffs, frustration flaring in his icy blue eyes. He scrubs a hand through his hair and then drops it back to his side. "Look, I fucked up, okay? I know that. I'm not asking for her forgiveness. I just want her to know that I regret what I did."
"Octavio?" she says from behind me.
"Mierda," I mutter, my head falling forward. Now there's no hiding from him that she's here.
He cranes his neck, trying to see around me.
I study him for a moment, looking for any hint that he's here to cause problems. He stares back, his expression placid. I can't tell if he's bullshitting me or not. My gut says he is, but it's not really my choice to make. She should get to decide for herself if she wants to hear him out.