“She got away from me,” I mutter, speaking more to myself than my brother. “How am I supposed to let that go? How do I live with that?”
“Time heals all things.”
“We both know that’s a bunch of bullshit. Don’t pretend you haven’t let shit fester inside you for years and years.”
“And what good did it ever do me? Just like, what good would it do you? It’s time to start focusing on the things you have, all the good stuff you’ve got going for you. That’s what matters. Not some stupid kid who managed to jump from the frying pan into the fire.”
Something about his choice of words makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “What are you telling me?”
“Fuck me and my big mouth,” he groans. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”
“Yes, for fuck’s sake!”
“Fine. Like I said, I’ve had eyes on her. As soon as she got off the plane, I had someone follow her cab. She got out at a building owned by the Brookshire family.”
“No big surprise there.”
“Lucas. It’s a brothel.”
My stomach drops. “It’s what?”
“Some of the girls working out of the house live there full time. Others are dropped there, waiting to be picked up by whoever’s taking them to their next destination. Sometimes they cross into Canada; other times, they move on to Russia. From there, who knows?”
I hear what he’s saying, but I can’t piece it together. “Why would she go there, though? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“If she knew about it, somebody must have given her the address. Maybe that’s where she was trying to end up when Quinton first found her on the street. Maybe she thought she’d be safe there.”
“But who’d give her that idea?”
“You would have to ask her yourself. But I’m guessing since it’s affiliated with the Brookshires, she got the address from Nash.”
Why would he send her there? That’s what I can’t wrap my head around. “There had to be plenty of places he could have told her to hide.”
“Exactly. But he chose that particular location.”
“He didn’t care what happened to her there,” I conclude. Why does the idea make me hurt for her? There she was, promised to this piece of shit. According to Aspen, she believes she loved him—and he loved her. She said as much in the cell before Aspen helped her escape.
All this time, she had no idea he tried to send her to a brothel where traffickers come and go all the time. For all I know, by now, one of them could have decided to take her along with them on the next leg of their journey.
Nash never gave a damn about her. Nobody ever has.
“You still with me?” Nic asks. “Listen, I was only trying to look out for my little brother. Don’t take it too hard, okay? You can hate me all you want. Just don’t do it forever.”
“I don’t have time for any of that right now. I need to figure this out.”
“You still think there’s something to figure out?”
“Am I supposed to leave her there?”
“Considering you kept her locked in a cell for days? Is it really so much worse?”
In all honesty, he has a point. And really, I don’t owe her a fucking thing. Time and again, she turned her back on every little bit of kindness I tried to show. The little bit of respect I tried to give her. No, it wasn’t all the time, but I made allowances left and right, and she made a fool of me as a result.
Maybe this is exactly what she deserves.
But truly, does anybody deserve the sort of fate I’m imagining now?
How many men are going to fuck her there?
“What do you want me to do?” Nic asks. “I’ve got one of my guys keeping an eye on the place just in case they try to take her to another location.”
Part of me wants to tell him to leave her there. That she can rot with a stranger’s cock up her ass for all I care. I don’t owe her shit. She’s made her choice.
Then there is another part that wants to tell him I’ll be on the first flight to North Woods. That I’ll be the one to rescue her from that place. That I’ll kill anyone who dares to lay a finger on her because she is mine.
I want to tell him both.
I just don’t know which one I want more.