Chapter 21
Trinity
Everything happens so quickly.
Brody collapses, first falling to his knees, then slumping to his side, unconscious in the sun. For a few horrified moments, my mind and body malfunction. I stand frozen, gaping at his limp, unmoving form.
Is…is he…?
I rush toward him on trembling legs, panic squeezing my chest with every step.
Before I reach his side, I halt.
Brody’s not just a stranger I found immobile on the side of the road.
This man hurt me. Harassed me. Kidnapped and confined me.
If Declan Gallagher gives the word, Brody might even kill me.
A new revelation shakes me to my core.
I have to run.
Even though my psychological programming—and my humanity—insists that I should stay or call for help, I ignore every bit of that cognitive dissonance.
Brody’s in no condition to hold me prisoner anymore.
I’m free.
The SUV is right here, the keys already in the ignition.
It feels like falling, like flying, but I spin away before I change my mind and sprint for the driver’s side of the BMW, expecting angry hands to stop me every second.
I throw myself behind the wheel, start the engine, and will myself to shift the car into drive and haul ass. Instead, I sit here, frozen in place while I wrestle with my conscience.
I know what I should do. What Finn would expect me to do. I owe Brody nothing. After all, the man abducted me.
I bang my head on the steering wheel. “Fuck.”
Shutting off the engine, I fly into action. As quickly as possible, I rummage through the BMW until I find the first aid kit. Then I race over to Brody and fall to my knees by his side. With shaking fingers, I check for the pulse in his neck. Slow but steady. For the moment.
As I tear Brody’s pants, exposing the wound on his thigh, my heart stutters. There’s blood everywhere, and it’s still flowing. Working as swiftly as possible, I disinfect the area using what I find in the kit. When Brody moans in pain, I flinch.
“Sorry. I’m almost done.”
He mumbles incoherently but doesn’t wake up. Once I finish cleaning, I apply a gauze pad and wrap his entire thigh as tightly as possible without creating a tourniquet.
After that’s done, I hesitate for several seconds before scrambling to my feet.
That’s the best I can do for him. Now I really do need to leave.
Climbing back behind the wheel, I turn over the engine and accelerate onto the highway.
As I check the rearview mirror and see his still figure growing smaller in the distance, sobs rip at my chest.
A voice inside me shrieks at me to go back and help him.
My body vibrates with the memory of his touch. The gleam in his eyes as he pinned me to the wall, caressed me, possessed me.
Yet I’m running away because I have to protect myself.
I remind myself that I did what I could. I’m choosing myself, saving me in this horrible mess of violence, greed, and power.
I guess I never imagined saving myself might mean leaving someone else bleeding on the side of the road.
When the tears finally begin to subside, numbness settles over me.
“Drive, Trinity. Just drive.” I swallow down hiccups and scrub at my tear-stained face.
It’s over. This is the right thing to do.
But no matter how many times I repeat those words in my mind, I don’t believe them.
My fingers squeeze the leather of the steering wheel so intensely, my knuckles ache. A headache pounds in my head, and my hair whips around my face from the dry air coming through the broken back windshield.
Nearly twenty minutes pass before I start to tune in to my surroundings again. Exit signs appear on my right, advertising a few gas stations and—
A pay phone.
Thank God.
I get off the highway as soon as I can, scanning the sunken, single-story businesses packed near the exit.
There.
The payphone booth sits off to the side of a gas station in much better shape than the last one I visited.
No sign of bikers either. It’s daylight, so there shouldn’t be too many weirdos out.
With my gunned-out vehicle and bloodied shirt, I think I’m the oddest thing around.
I accelerate into a parking space, nearly barreling over the curb in my hurry. I slam my foot on the brakes, throw the SUV into park, and almost climb out with the key still in the ignition.
When I open the armrest, spare change twinkles up at me from the depths. Finally, some good luck.
I snatch as many silver pieces into my palm as possible and head for the booth, still paranoid that Brody’s going to jump out from somewhere.
An invisible fist squeezes my chest. Brody…
The image of his body, lying in the dust as his blood stains the sand red…
My mind recalls the way he calmed me after a panic attack, the way he later saved me at the gas station.
I shudder and shut myself inside the phone booth. I can’t think about any of that.
When I pull the receiver off the cradle, a glorious, healthy dial tone greets my ear. Shoving the quarters into the slot with shaking fingers, I lift my other hand to the keypad and freeze.
If the Russians really did intercept my message to Finn, then calling his cell would only recreate the problem I just barely survived.
But if I can’t call Finn’s phone, then who do I reach out to?
I don’t know Cian’s or Rory’s or even my cousin Darren’s numbers, or anyone else’s in New York.
The only numbers I know by heart are Liam’s, Finn’s, and my father’s—
Wait. Dad. He’s dead, but his phone…
Finn mentioned he was still searching Dad’s phone in his efforts to figure out who lured him to his death.
It’s the only chance I’ve got.
Who would try and bug the cell of a dead man?
Nobody. I hope.
So I dial my father’s number. Just punching the digits makes my fingers tremble.
I never thought I’d call this number again.
As the line connects, I almost convince myself I might hear my father’s voice on the other end… Instead, the phone just rings and rings. The tone goes on long enough that I’m ready to give up when I finally hear a click.
Silence drifts through the airwaves.
I suck in a breath. “Hello?” Fresh tears quake my voice.
“Trinity! Holy fuck.” Finn exhales a long, loud breath. “You scared the shit out of me. Where are you? What happened? I sent Kellin to search the town you texted me from, but he found some kind of bloodbath. Are you all right? Why’d you call this number?”
My brother’s deep, familiar voice sends me sobbing all over again.
The awful part is that I’ve spent years believing he and Dad didn’t really care about me. That I was just a burden to them, an obligation neither could fully shake.
The intensity in Finn’s voice shows me how wrong I was.
What a shame that after spending so much time alone and unable to feel the warmth of my family’s affection, it took a life-and-death horror ride to realize that my resentment was founded in my own insecurities.
“Listen to me, Trinity.” Strength pours through his voice and straight into my soul. “Calm down and tell me what’s going on. You can cry as much as you want later. Right now, we need to get you to safety—”
“The Russians got to us before Kellin did.” I cough, attempting to catch my breath. “We escaped—”
“We who?”
Brody… “A Port King enforcer…Brody…kidnapped me after graduation. On Declan’s orders.”
I can almost feel Finn bristling from the other side of the country.
“The Port Kings.” The weight in my brother’s voice anchors me. “I should have fucking known.”
“What do you mean?”
“This is my fault. I should have expected their retaliation after we essentially took over the Cypress.” The scraping noise suggests that Finn’s rubbing a hand over his beard. “What do you mean the Russians got to you? What Russians?”
Even though he can’t see me, I shake my head. “I don’t know. The guy leading the pack is called Andrei—”
Finn’s voice darkens even more. “Andrei Kruschev?”
“Yeah.” I push out a breath while scanning the perimeter outside the phone booth. “I’m sure that’s bad news.”
I came across his name in my research, but I really don’t know details. I’m assuming Finn has more intel.
“Trinity, if Andrei Kruschev’s involved, that changes things.” He curses under his breath. “What the hell would those Russians be doing there?”
I want that drive!
At the memory of Andrei’s ragged, quaking roar, fear races down my spine.
“Trini.” My childhood nickname in Finn’s mouth leads me back to the present. “These guys aren’t like the Italians. They wouldn’t be after you just to piss me off. They’ll have a reason. A serious one. What do they want?”
With my heart thundering in my chest, I unveil the truth for the first time ever. “They want the hard drive.”
Finn’s silence rings loud with fury.
“What hard drive?”
It all seems so foolish. I did this for Angelica, because I wanted to avenge her more than anything. But now that I have to explain everything to Finn, I realize that I’ve single-handedly created a nuclear weapon that could destroy my entire family.
Hot, salty tears roll down my cheeks.
“Trini.” Urgency underscores Finn’s voice. “What hard drive?”
“I’ve been tracking the family’s dealings for the past several years.” The admission rushes from my lips. “All that I could get my hands on. Financial records. Associates. Allies. Enemies. Wars.”
The quiet that follows speeds my pulse.
“I saved everything I found on a hard drive—”
“Where’s the hard drive now?”
I’ve never heard so much fury in one man’s voice. And even though I know Finn would never hurt me, I flinch, my stomach clenching.
“On its way to my new apartment in Austin.” I gulp. “You told me to take extra precautions since things with the family in LA were getting bad. I thought it would be better if the hard drive wasn’t in my possession while I was in town—”
“Let me get this straight. You’ve been doxing the family for the past several years, and somehow the Russians know, and they want every piece of dirt you have on us for themselves?”
His damning summary causes my throat to spasm. I can’t even speak.
“You have exactly five seconds to tell me why you’ve been doing this.”