ISABELLA

Reaching the shed, I check in with my partner, Ana, before changing into my usual outfit I wear when freeing slaves. Throwing my leg over my motorcycle, I head in the direction of the junkyard where a shipment of four girls is being held.

Ana was the first girl I helped when I returned from my training in Switzerland. She had nowhere to go and was angry over what happened. At first, I used her anger to my advantage, but during the past two years, we’ve grown close. We have the same goal – to destroy my mother.

We set up a safe house on the outskirts of the city where Ana works from. Whenever I free a shipment of girls, I tell them to wait in front of a specific hospital if they need help. Ana watches them before she makes contact.

The longest a girl or boy has stayed with Ana has been a month. We try to move them quickly to lessen the chances of my mother finding out about us.

I park my motorcycle down the road from the junkyard and glance around to make sure I haven’t been spotted. Sticking to the shadows, I begin to jog toward the side of the junkyard.

This will be an easy job because there are many places to hide with all the junk and scrapped vehicles.

Reaching a wall made of metal sheeting, I quickly hoist myself over it and drop to a crouching position behind a stack of crushed steel that used to be cars.

I listen for any movement as I pull a ski mask over my head so I won’t be recognized. Cautiously, I make my way to the main gates, and pulling a bolt cutter from my backpack, I cut through the chain, so the girls will be able to leave the property once they’re free.

After securing an exit for them, I sneak to the office. I pull my Glock from behind my back and check how many men there are. As expected, I only have two to worry about.

One’s asleep on an old chair, his feet propped up on a desk that’s littered with takeaway containers and empty beer bottles. The other guy’s watching a rerun of a football game.

The lack of guards tells me the girls I’ll set free tonight are meant to work in the whorehouses. They’re not of much value to my mother.

There would be a small army guarding a virgin.

Checking the area, I move to the side of the office, and pressing my back against the wall, I carefully glance through the window.

The tiny hairs on the back of my neck rise, and I peer into the darkness around me for the source of my uneasiness. Not seeing anyone, I dismiss the eerie sensation. It’s probably because it’s been two months since I’ve freed a shipment.

Ducking low, I creep toward the door. As I straighten up, I take a deep breath, and then I kick the door open. Training the barrel of my gun on the guy that’s awake, I bury a bullet between his eyes. The other guy startles awake just as I pull the trigger, silencing him before he can make a sound.

I hurry inside and pat both bodies down for the key to the storage room where the girls are. Finding a set of keys, I rush out of the office and run toward the door that’s secured with a padlock. Taking a flashlight from my backpack so I can see the lock clearly, it takes me precious seconds to find the right key, and then I yank the door open.

I shine the flashlight over the empty space and find the girls huddled in a corner. The room reeks of urine, but I ignore it as I move closer. Two stare at me with terrified eyes while the other two startle awake.

“I’m here to help,” I offer them some reassurance. “Are any of you hurt?”

One of the girls shakes her head as she cautiously climbs to her feet, and then the other three do the same. Assuming she’s taken the role of leader in the group, I focus on her. I take a slip of paper with the hospital’s address from my pocket and hold it out to the leader. “You have to run. If one of you needs help, go to this hospital and wait out front where there are people. Only wait twelve hours. If a woman doesn’t come for you by that time, you’re on your own.”

“How will we know the woman was sent by you?” the leader asks.

“She’ll give you a password. Nightbird.”

The leader nervously licks her lips, and then she glances at the door.

“I’ve unlocked the main gate. Just run straight ahead and get out of here.” They all blink at me. “Run,” I hiss, injecting a bite into my voice.

The leader of the girls grabs the paper from me and then hurries out of the room with the other girls following behind her.

Hopefully, they can manage on their own because this is the best I can do for them.

Rushing out of the storage room, I head to the side of the yard, and tucking my gun behind my back, I climb over the wall. As soon as my feet hit the ground, I break out into a sprint toward my motorcycle. Just as I reach it and I’m about the pull on my helmet, a familiar scent grabs my attention.

Woodsy. Smoky and sultry.

Impossible.

Now’s not the freaking time to think of the hook-up I had in LA!

I pull the helmet over my head, and climbing onto my motorcycle, I let the engine roar to life. Racing away from the junkyard, the corner of my mouth lifts when the rush of a successful operation finally hits.

Once I’m done hiding my motorcycle and weapons in the shed on the property I purchased under Ana’s name, I quickly change back into my leggings and t-shirt I usually wear for jogging before heading back to the mansion.

It’s already two am. Knowing where every guard will be, I climb over the back wall and creep toward the side of the house, where I scale the wall to the balcony of my bedroom.

Only when I’m safely inside my bedroom suite do I take a deep breath of relief.

I hope the girls will be safe.

Walking to my bathroom to take a quick shower, my thoughts turn to the one-night stand I had in LA.

What I wouldn’t give to hook up with my devil again.


Tags: Michelle Heard Romance