Chapter 33 Asha
ASHA
While Catalina packed for herself and Niall, Rook called Torin.
The head of the Beasts of Belfast listened quietly as Rook explained how we’d found Catalina and Niall Jr., and the situation they now faced.
I hadn’t met Torin Lynch yet, but I’d read about him in news articles, seen him give interviews to the press, and even heard him deliver a speech as the guest of honor at the Children’s Hospital charity gala I’d attended several years back.
He was a poised man, witty, charming, generous with his time and money, and handsome in every sense of the word, with a smile that had surely broken the hearts of stadiums full of women.
In the dozen or so times I’d heard him speak, he’d never sounded like this.
Rook had a hand braced on the kitchen counter and the phone on speaker before him. “Los Cuervos is running women through Philly for the Soul Collector.”
A pause. Then came Torin’s low, menacing reply. “Say that again?”
“That’s why Niall was killed. He found out what was going on.”
“Why didn’t he tell us?”
“He was protecting Catalina.”
Torin sighed.
“I know. I’m pissed about that, too, but”—Rook’s gaze cut to mine—“I can also understand it.”
I rolled my eyes at him, still frustrated that Rook wouldn’t consider letting me use the podcast to lure the Soul Collector to us.
He drummed his fingers on the counter. “Catalina said Los Cuervos ran the border crossings. She came over with a group made up of mainly teen girls. They were forced into prostitution.”
“Los Cuervos.” Torin growled their name like it left a bad taste in his mouth. “Those bastards know we outlawed the skin trade. I made that clear when we took the city.”
“Aye. They know, all right. Which makes me think the Soul Collector is paying them well enough to ignore the risk.”
Torin sighed. “I’ll have to update Brandon about this.”
“Tell him we’ll handle it. We don’t need him and his Zulu mercs starting their own war in Philly.”
“Where are Catalina and the boy now?”
“With us, but I need to move them somewhere safe.”
“My penthouse is empty. I’m at the estate until next week.”
“That works.”
Torin’s tone turned icy. “And the Soul Collector?”
“Asha’s still looking. This intel gives us a fresh connection, something to work with.”
“Good. And Rook?”
“Aye, Boss?”
“Root this shite out and burn it to the ground. I want names and what crew they belong to. And report the fucking body count once you’re done.”
The line went dead, and Rook returned the phone to his pocket.
“He seems…different from the charismatic billionaire I’ve seen on TV.”
Rook nodded. “You don’t want to get on the wrong side of Torin Lynch.”
Torin and Rook’s outrage over the human trafficking ring encouraged me. I couldn’t overlook that they were criminals, but I guessed there was a line in the sand between bad guys who did bad things and really bad guys who did utterly depraved things.
For the first time since this madness had begun, I wondered if maybe the Beasts weren’t the monsters I thought they were.
I just had two questions. “Who’s Brandon? And what’s Zulu?”
“More men you don’t want to get on the wrong side of.
Brandon runs a black ops crew that brings down human trafficking rings all around the world.
We have a delicate alliance with them. The enemy of our enemies are our friends, or something like that.
Zulu doesn’t upset our operations as long as we stay clear of the skin trade.
Part of the deal is that we keep our backyard clean, which is fine by us.
We’ve never tolerated human trafficking, period.
But this current situation breaches our terms. It’s best if we tell Brandon what we know and that we’ll deal with it.
If Zulu shows up unannounced to manage the trafficking problem, it makes us look like we’ve lost control, which is bad for business.
” Rook folded his arms. “Do you remember the Wolf Street Mafia?”
“Of course. The Italian Mafia had a stranglehold on Philly for decades. They were ousted in a turf war.”
Rook shook his head. “Not a turf war. That was Zulu. They unintentionally created a power vacuum, and we took over. The rest is history.”
“So…they’re the good guys?”
He scoffed. “I wouldn’t exactly call them that.”
“Any chance I could interview them for the podcast?”
Rook pointed at me. “Absolutely the fuck not.”
“Why? Are they hot?”
He recoiled like I’d slapped him. “They’re blokes, Asha. How would I know?”
“I bet they’re hot. Badasses in military fatigues? Yum.”
Rook’s horrified expression told me my ribbing was hitting a sore spot with precision.
“If they show up, I’m definitely accosting one for an interview.”
“If they show up, I’ll lock you somewhere safe.” He cut the air with a slash of his hand. “End of story.”
I made a face and poked my tongue out.
In the corner of the living room, Niall Jr. bashed a plastic mallet onto the keys of a toy piano while chewing on a building block.
Rook frowned. “Should he be doing that?”
“Kids make noise, gangster. It’s pretty normal.”
“No, I mean chewing on the plastic block. It could contain carcinogens. And what if he chokes on it?”
“It’s the size of his fist. How’s he going to choke on it?”
He gave me a look that said he wasn’t convinced the threat had been eliminated.
“Geez, relax, helicopter uncle. Niall’s fine.”
Rook’s protective instincts were dialed so high that poor Niall wouldn’t be able to take a step without his uncle taping foam on every corner and covering the floor with mattresses.
This wasn’t caution.
It was grief.
Rook had lost everyone. Of course he’d hover over his newfound family. He was probably terrified of losing someone close to him all over again. I wasn’t sure his battered heart could take any more pain.
“Hey.” I touched Rook’s arm, and his gaze met mine. “They’re coming with us so you can keep them safe. Okay? Nothing bad is going to happen.”
He nodded, lips set in a grim line. Then his expression softened, and his brow pinched. “I have a nephew.”
I smiled. “You do.”
“And a sister-in-law. Sort of.”
“It must’ve come as quite a shock. How are you handling this?”
“One step at a time.” A rush of air left him, and he dragged his fingers through his hair. “Niall never breathed a word of this to me.”
“He loved Catalina and didn’t want to put her and their unborn child at risk, even if it meant keeping a secret from you.”
“He could’ve trusted me.”
“You’ll drive yourself crazy overthinking this. Niall had his reasons. Try not to take it personally.”
Finn met us in a black Escalade and loaded it full of Catalina and Niall’s things: stroller, travel crib, diapers, bottles, boxes of toys, suitcases full of clothes. Not knowing how long they’d be away from home, Catalina wanted to be prepared, but man, kids needed a lot of stuff.
They followed us back to the Lynch Continental, where we settled them into Torin’s penthouse apartment.
It was similar to Rook’s but on steroids.
Covering the top two floors of the building, it had a grand staircase, a double-height ceiling in the living area, a swimming pool on the enormous terrace, and a helipad up top.
There were also eight staff members who ran the residence—butler, private chef, housekeeper, chauffeur, and four security guards—two for each floor.
For now, everyone was safe.
And with the information we’d gleaned from Catalina, Rook and I were invigorated with fresh hope.
Time to catch a killer.