Chapter 34
TARA
While the four of us were on the mission, the Wildcats monitoring Sloane’s location had a field day.
They brought in thousands of photographs capturing Vadim Orlov.
He was a huge motherfucker. He was dressed in a sharp shirt and pants, almost looking like a corporate guy except for the nasty scar running down his cheek and the cruelty dripping from his eyes.
Apparently, Vadim had arrived at the hideout, where Greg had kept Sloane, with four of his goons. They’d stayed there for half an hour before they all left. Greg, his two buddies, and five women had followed Vadim in two separate cars. All the women were drugged and had to be carried into the car.
Naomi, Sophie, and Arya had been monitoring the hideout. They’d brought along the video footage of the entire thing.
They’d tagged behind their cars all the way from Brooklyn to a house in North Riverdale in the Bronx. The entire transfer of the women to their next hideout had happened in the middle of the night.
When Knox called Greg in the morning to inquire about the drug dosage for Sloane, Greg's flimsy excuse was that he didn’t want “the boss” to doubt him.
While we got all the photographs and footage of Vadim, the leader of the kidnappings, we did not get any sighting of Maxim Orlov, the guy who apparently oversaw the management of all the hideouts across the city.
Once again, Greg gave us no information about Maxim's whereabouts, claiming that the boss would certainly visit in a day or so. Right now, he was staying at the hideout with his buddies while they awaited further instructions from Maxim.
I was working on getting more on Vadim from his face when my spare phone pinged with a notification.
Only one person would contact me on this line.
Immediately, I opened the message.
Sloane: Got the phone. Hi!
Me: OMG! ARE YOU OKAY?
I yelled and shrieked as relief slammed into my heart. “Samaira, Lena, Naomi, got a message from Sloane.”
Loud cursing and banging erupted as footsteps pounded on the floor and a sweaty Samaira barged through my office door.
Sloane: I’m okay. Slight weakness. Residual effect of the drugs. Also, had gotten used to eating 3 meals a day for a while there. This is bringing back memories.
Samaira, Lena, and Naomi leaned over me as all of us read the message. Naomi swore, and Sami kicked my table while Lena pressed her lips together.
Me: One word, and we get you out. Remember, this is just a mission. You are in control.
“That was good,” Samaira muttered.
Sloane: Do you know where I am?
Me: North Riverdale.
I tried to give as little information as possible in case her phone got stolen from her, or if fucking Greg chose to betray us. The less he knew about Cherry and who she was talking to, the better. Sloane knew I’d give her all the need-to-know information.
Sloane: It’s mostly all young undocumented girls that they’ve kidnapped.
Those fucking bastards.
Me: Is it possible to talk?
I turned to the girls and said, “I don’t want to have too much written information on the phone. I’m sure she’ll delete the conversation, but I don’t want to risk it.”
“Makes sense,” Lena said. “But stay on the chat with her. Have hourly updates.”
I nodded and looked at the message that just popped up in our chat.
Sloane: Not right now. Snuck into the bathroom to chat. Maxim might be showing up tonight. Will call you later at night if possible. Gotta go.
Me: Send hourly updates. Delete the chat.
Sloane: Will do.
I shook my head with a smile at the little emoji. She was doing fine for now.
“I’m going for tonight’s patrol,” Samaira growled.
“I’m joining you,” Naomi added. She hated seeing any of us in physical pain. But when it came to our past nightmares creeping up on us, she couldn’t handle it.
Lena nodded. “We’ll be here.”
I put the phone in my pocket and turned off the computer.
Getting up from my seat, I stretched on the spot, getting rid of all the kinks.
My pussy still ached after the brutal fucking from last night.
Every time I walked, I was reminded of Knox.
Knox and his glorious cock. His large fucking hands and his bloody shirt.
He was hot on a usual day, but last night, he looked like a devil. A savage, bloodthirsty devil.
When the three ladies raised their eyebrows at me, I asked, “What?”
Samaira snorted. “Oh, so we aren’t addressing your ruined dress, your scraped knee, and the ridiculous smile on your face from last night?”
I bit my lip as Lena chuckled while Naomi pouted. “Aw man, I missed it. Tell us, Tara. What the ever-loving fuck is going on?”
I folded my arms and leaned my back against the glass wall. “Would you guys freak out if I said that he’s kinda obsessed with me?”
Lena rolled her eyes. “No shit. We have eyes. We want to know how you feel.”
I bit my lip, afraid of their response as I admitted, “I love that he’s obsessed. He looks at me, and I don’t want to hide. He looks at my scars, my burns, my injury, and he doesn’t get that look of horror and disgust. I fucking love how he makes me feel.”
Naomi’s eyes softened. “You trust him?”
I nodded. “He said he’s never going to arrest me or any of the Wildcats. That his only goal is to protect me. And if he has to fight alongside me, then so be it.”
Samaira cheered at that. “Now, that’s the spirit. I knew I liked him when he suggested hunting the targets. So much fucking fun.”
Lena narrowed her eyes at Sami. “That is not becoming a regular thing. It’s only for special occasions.”
Samaira winked at me. “We’ll see about that.”
Naomi leaned against the desk and gingerly asked, “So are you both together? Dating?”
My face scrunched at the word dating. But were we together? Or were we obsessive stalker buddies? Was that a thing? Could a psychopath date someone? What would that even look like?
“Naomi, I think you broke Tara,” Lena murmured, making Samaira laugh.
She came over and pulled me into her arms, ruffling my hair. “I’ve been there. Figure it out. There’s no such thing as too soon or too much or too late. If you feel something, own it.”
“He says he’s all in,” I murmured softly.
“And you’re scared,” Sami whispered.
I nodded, too afraid to speak those words out loud.
Naomi ran her fingers through my hair. “Does he make you feel safe? And I don’t mean physically,” she said, and tapped her finger on my chest. “In here.”
My heart ached and bloomed at that question.
Because these ladies all carried those deep-rooted scars that had made us who we were.
We were bruised, battered, and defeated once.
We yearned to feel that semblance of safety, the kind of safety that didn’t need a bodyguard or a protector, but the kind where we could sleep without worry, express ourselves without judgment, just fucking be ourselves. Fearlessly. Calmly. Peacefully.
I thought about Knox, the way he made friends with Shadow, cooked breakfast for us, remembered how I took my coffee, looked at me as if I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and fucked me like I was the only woman he’d touched in his life.
My eyes filled with tears as I looked at Naomi. “Yes, he makes me feel safe.” I sniffled and wiped the tear from the corner of my eye. “And that scares the absolute shit out of me.”
Samaira pressed a kiss on my head. “We’re here for you. And if Knox ever makes you feel less than safe, I’d hunt him down, and not sexily.”
I snorted, then laughed. “You do that.” I pulled all my ladies into a group hug and packed my little bag. “I have an appointment with my plastic surgeon.”
“Everything okay?” Lena asked.
I nodded. “Just a routine checkup. If the previous intervention looks fine to him, I’d like to get started on the next round of surgeries.”
They wished me luck, and I was off to the surgeon. It took me half an hour to reach Brooklyn. Since we used to live in Brooklyn and operated from Thunder Claw Bar and Restaurant before Dominic’s arrival in our lives, I’d kept my doctor close to my previous little apartment.
I parked my car down the block and walked to the clinic.
Once I gave my name and the time of my appointment, I took a seat in the waiting area.
I kept my mask on here, considering the majority of patients were already good-looking people trying to look even better.
Good for them, but this place managed to bring out the worst of my insecurities.
I grabbed a magazine and started flipping through the pages, trying to ignore the gorgeous women and men sitting around me. A few minutes passed before I felt a large presence taking a seat right beside me.
I turned to snap at the idiot only to realize it was Knox. My jaw dropped. “How? How’d you know I was here?”
He shrugged. “Saw it in your calendar this morning when you were sleeping.”
“First, stalker alert. Second, my phone is password protected.”
“It unlocks with your face. Now, why are we here?”
I looked around and found a few eyes staring at the large, handsome man sitting beside me, a woman hiding her face beneath a mask. “Why are you here? It's the middle of the day. Don’t you have work? Crimes to solve? Criminals to catch?”
He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, tucking me closer. “None of which are my priority.”
I crossed my arms and, for the first time here, leaned my head against his chest and closed my eyes with a soft sigh. His warm body, his alluring scent, his need to be with me, near me, filled me with bone-deep peace. “Well…” I gulped. “You wasted your time. This is just a routine checkup.”
His lips brushed the side of my head, making my stomach swoop in excitement. “That’s fine.”
Right then, the receptionist called my name.
Once we entered the doctor’s office—who was a lovely woman—I made the introduction between Knox and Dr. Jade.