43. Chapter 43
Chapter forty-three
Remington
Colton killed the man in the suit. The bastard who tried to sell me to the highest bidder, then attempted to buy me himself. The man who tortured me, made me paranoid, who haunted not only my waking moments but my nightmares. The asshole who killed my friend.
Senator Andrew Thornton is dead.
Because of Colton and his team, Thornton will never have the chance to hurt anyone again.
Last night, after a quick check-up at the hospital, the entire team and Tallahassee convoyed to Colton’s and camped out in the living room.
I was out of it. When we arrived, Colton took me upstairs, put me to bed, and hasn’t left my side. He kept his body curled protectively around me all night. When a nightmare woke me, he reassured me and made me feel safe until the terror passed.
We’re both awake now, lying tangled together in bed at that time before daybreak when it’s not quite dark but not yet light, when Warlock knocks on the door.
“You two are going to want to see this.”
Colton and I share a concerned look before he takes my hand, and we hurry downstairs where everyone’s gathered around the TV.
“It’s been running all morning,” Tallahassee informs us.
“It’s on every channel,” Hawk adds.
There’s a headline rolling across the bottom of the screen: Senator Andrew Thornton Heads Sex Trafficking Ring.
The reporter onscreen begins to speak. “Repeating our top story, Senator Andrew Thornton has been killed, and numerous people have been arrested for their alleged involvement in a global criminal empire known as the Consortium.”
The camera cuts to Lincoln Stone, and the newscaster introduces him as the man who broke the story.
Lincoln explains that Danny originally uncovered the story, and he picked it up where Danny left off. He details the Consortium’s criminal activities. Gives intelligent answers to the newscaster’s questions, and in a shocking reveal, he shares what very few people have seen…my pictures.
He’s a natural.
“How’d he get these details and those pictures?” Ricochet, who’s sitting on the couch, cranes his neck and narrows his eyes at me. “Was this you?”
“I met with Lincoln a week or so ago. I gave him Danny’s notes and the pictures.”
The muscle in Colton’s jaw twitches. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“You would’ve tried to talk me out of it.”
Watching and listening to Lincoln detail the story, my emotions almost choke me.
Colton sweeps the tears off my face and pulls me into his chest. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m alright. It’s just…Danny would’ve loved this. I wish he was here to see it.”
He wraps me in his arms. “I’m so proud of you, Remi.”
I look up at him, confusion clouding my expression.
“All of this—” He throws a casual wave toward the television. “It’s because of you. No matter the obstacle, no matter how scared you were, you didn’t let anything stand in your way of getting justice. You’re a superhero, Remington James.”
For weeks the Consortium dominated the news, and leading the charge was Lincoln Stone—now the subject-matter expert—keeping the public updated every step of the way.
Fifteen people were rescued with me in Beverly Hills, including five children under ten. Fifty-seven well-dressed, lowlife scumbags were arrested that night, including several well-known names. The man in the suit and eleven armed guards were killed.
In a search of Thornton’s house, the FBI found a mountain of intelligence, including incriminating documents and payment ledgers.
The raid at the mansion made a dent in the Consortium’s hierarchy, but that was only the beginning. The arrests at the auction set off a chain reaction. Like dominoes tumbling against each other, the Consortium began to collapse.
Those arrested were eager to talk, trying to make deals to save their own skins.
They gave up everything—names, locations, contacts, and the different ways they sold their prisoners.
But it didn’t stop there. They gave up information on their drug pipelines, smuggling routes, and money-laundering schemes.
Everything the Consortium had their bloody fingers in was exposed and being ripped apart.
The publicity and worldwide outrage guaranteed most members would be stripped of their freedom and locked up for the rest of their lives. Ironically, the same fate they’d given to their victims.
By the time it was over, hundreds of the Consortium’s captives had been rescued and more than two hundred people, from top leaders to low-level grunts, had been arrested. The Consortium was finally out of business for good.
In an extraordinary and unexpected twist, Danny, Lincoln, and I were all awarded Pulitzers: Danny and Lincoln for Breaking News Reporting, and me for the photos that started it all.