17. Chloe
CHAPTER 17
Chloe
T he house feels unnaturally quiet as I sit in the living room, trying to distract myself with a book. The Fourth Estate: A History of Newspapers by Jeffrey D. Klausner is a comprehensive account of the evolution of newspapers, tracing their development from the early days of print to their role in contemporary society. I should find it interesting because it relates to my chosen career, but the words keep blurring together, my mind unable to focus.
Anticipation and worry gnaw at me. Diego has been gone for five days now. I didn’t expect the mission to take this long.
The sound of the front door opening jolts me from my thoughts. My heart leaps as I stand up, my book forgotten. Diego steps inside, his shoulders slumped and his eyes haunted. I can tell immediately that something is wrong. I don’t dare think the worst, though. I can’t afford to.
"Diego, what happened?" I question, tentatively approaching him. "Please tell me?" I beg, not wanting to hear his answer but needing to know at the same time.
He looks at me, and the pain in his eyes is almost too much to bear. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. Instead, he collapses onto the sofa, burying his face in his hands.
Rushing over, I sit beside him and place a comforting hand on his back.
"Diego, talk to me. Please."
He takes a shuddering breath, lifting his head to meet my gaze. "We didn’t find Serena. She was there, but by the time we arrived, she was gone. We missed her by a day. One fucking day!"
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. "What? How?"
Diego shakes his head. "She had been there, but her purchaser took her away the day before we arrived. We were too late."
"Did you find out anything else?"
Diego's face contorts with sorrow and anger. "We were given a photo of her. She appeared to be savagely beaten. The date stamp was from the day before we got there."
I reach out, taking his hand in mine, tears threatening to erupt. “I'm so sorry."
He squeezes my hand, his grip almost painfully tight.
"For the first time, I’m beginning to think we may not find Serena alive. We haven’t got any new leads on where she’s been taken. The man who purchased her has disappeared, and now that he and his associates have demonstrated that Eaton and I are no longer in control, she’s of no value to them."
I can hear the helplessness in his voice. It threatens to consume him.
"You can't think like that, Diego. We have to keep hoping, keep searching."
Diego lets out a bitter laugh. "It's hard to keep hoping when every lead has ended in failure. We have discovered that someone who we thought was an ally has been working against us. He’s been making sure the traffickers are one step ahead of us all the time. We’ll never know how many women we could’ve saved if it wasn’t for his traitorous actions. He was the one who informed Serena’s purchaser we were on the way, giving him sufficient time to disappear with her."
"Who was it?"
"One of Richard Armstrong’s ex-business associates," Diego replies, his voice filled with disgust. "He assured us he was on our side, but now we’ve discovered he was still profiting from the human trafficking business and didn’t want Eaton and me to interfere."
"What happened to him?" I ask, even though I already have a feeling I know the answer.
"He's dead," Diego says, his voice cold. "Eaton and I took care of him and made sure he suffered in the process."
"How?" I ask, out of morbid curiosity and a need for closure.
This traitor prevented Serena from coming home to us. Maybe he was responsible for my rescue taking so long. The part of me that, in the past, would have been appalled by the taking of this man’s life has long since stopped caring. Anyone who places a value on another person’s life deserves all that comes to them.
Diego looks at me, tilting his head. "Are you sure you want to know?”
I nod.
“Eaton cut out his tongue first, so he couldn't talk or scream, and burned it on the fire in front of him. Then we beat him, over and over, until he was barely conscious. But that wasn't enough to kill him. Eaton and I both have a thing for old-fashioned torture. God, I shouldn’t be telling you this."
“I’m not naive. You don’t need to protect me from the darker side of the underworld. Tell me everything. Please. I want to be sure he suffered for what he did.”
"We had him drawn and quartered," Diego continues, his voice steady. "We tied each of the traitor’s limbs to the rear axels of four different vehicles and then had them driven in opposite directions. The man was literally torn apart."
A shiver runs down my spine at the thought, but I also feel a sense of justice.
"He deserved it." My words are cold. A new and tougher Chloe has risen to the surface.
Diego’s face falls again. I can see he’s tired. "I don't know what to do next. I'm beginning to lose hope."
I move closer, wrapping my arms around him. "We'll find her, Diego. You can't give up."
We cling to each other for comfort.
"She’s the only family I have left. I can't lose her," he responds.
"You won't," I whisper. "We'll find her. You're not alone."
Diego pulls back slightly and stares into my eyes. "Thank you. For being here. For believing in me."
I smile through my tears. "Always."
Without thinking, I lean in and press my lips to his. The kiss is gentle at first, but it soon deepens. I’m in desperate need of comfort and reassurance, and I savor every moment of this physical connection. It makes me feel alive.