I turned around and watched the house disappear. Two other cars pulled out and turned in different directions: the others scattering across the city. I sat back down and chewed on my lip, thinking back to the blood, the bodies, and Sasha’s giddy smile.
“Was that what you wanted?” I asked softly and my voice sounded like it came from somewhere else.
“Exactly what I wanted,” he admitted. He glanced at me, but didn’t comment on what he saw. “We had to test them. You understand that, right?”
“I know,” I said, not looking at him. I didn’t hold it against him and didn’t even blame him. Sasha was eager to go fight and Anna said the others were ready, and she was right—the sisters did their job and nobody got hurt. Except for the Healy men, at least.
But it still felt all wrong, the death, the blood. I hated that the world had to be this way, that these girls had to kill for their freedom. If I could take them from their chains and give them a fresh start, I would do it without hesitating, but I knew that wasn’t my decision to make. I knew I didn’t have that power.
Cam did what he could, and the guns and the money were more than anyone else ever gave them.
“But you’re still worried,” he said.
“I’m worried,” I admitted. “About what’ll happen when the time comes. And what’ll happen after.”
“After?” he asked. “We’ll let them go. Let them keep the guns and the cash. They’ll be free. They’ll start over.”
“I hope so,” I said, shaking my head. “But after what they’re going to have to do to get that freedom, I’m afraid they won’t be the same.” I was quiet for a second then felt his hand reach out and take mine.
I squeezed his strong, rough fingers.
“Like you’re not the same?” he asked.
“Just like that,” I said, looking at his handsome, serious face. “After living out on the street, I won’t ever be able to go back to the way I was before. You know that, right?”
“I know,” he said, frowning slightly. “I hoped I could get you close, though.”
“You are,” I said, lifting his hand up to my lips. I kissed his fingertips, one at a time. “But I don’t want these girls to do through what I’m going through.”
“They’ll have to, no matter what,” he said. “They’ve already been hurt. Now they can get a chance to do the hurting for once.”
I laughed and nodded. I held his hand against the center console and stared out at the city as it flashed past. He was right, they’d already been hurt.
And now, they’d kill because of it.
21
Irene
Cam risked one more gathering of as many of the girls as he could. We stood outside the manor house in the long yard with guns lying in the grass. Twenty yards away, targets were riddled with bullet holes. There were twelve girls there in all, less than half the total number, but that was good enough.
Sasha sat next to me, idly braiding a few strands of my hair. She seemed so happy and girlish ever since the raid on that Healy safe house, like killing those men had taken some kind of burden from her. I didn’t ask her about it, about that smile and her pure joy at killing, and she didn’t seem to want to talk, but it hung there in the silences and I was afraid for her.
But the other girls seemed happy, and so I pushed my worries aside.
Cam stood off to the side with Don Valentino and talked in soft voices. I could guess what they were saying—big, serious, manly planning stuff. I was tempted to get up and go over there, just to see what they were talking about, but I liked it when Sasha tugged at my hair. It felt good to have a friend that touched me without any ulterior motive.
“We’re ready, you know,” Sasha said suddenly.
I jumped a little. We hadn’t spoken in almost ten minutes. I was so lost in thought that I’d nearly forgotten she was there.
“I know,” I said, turning slightly toward her, trying not to pull my hair from her hands. “You’re one hell of a shot.”
She laughed. “I know I am,” she said, grinning. “Better than the rest of these bitches.” Her smile slowly faded. “But that’s not what I mean. We’re ready, you know? They know what might happen.”
“You mean, you’re ready to die,” I said, feeling a chill in my stomach.
Sasha shrugged. “I’m not ready to die, no,” she said. “I definitely don’t want to. None of the girls here do. But we’re all ready to take the risk.”
“I wish you didn’t have to,” I said, frowning at her. I’d only known her a little while, but she’d become a really good friend. We spent a lot of time walking around the grounds talking about our lives, and we had a lot in common.