27. Clara
Chapter Twenty-Seven
CLARA
I’m strangely calm as Andre drives us from the pick-up location to the safehouse.
The hard part is over for these women, even if they don’t know it yet.
From here, Andre and Marco are going to make sure that they never have to give up their freedom.
But I can’t help but think of all the women and young girls out there who won’t ever be saved, who could potentially get caught up with very powerful men who decide to silence them once they’ve served their purpose.
I want to hit something. Some one. “It’s disgusting. That people want to treat other humans like this.”
Andre speeds along the empty roads. “Humans have no predators except for other humans.”
His knuckles turn white as he grips the steering wheel, his powerful body practically trembling.
“I can’t help but think of all the other women who won’t ever get out. I mean, it’s all well and good taking out Cillian, but what then? What about all the other thousands of women and girls who will never be free?—”
I have to clamp my hand over my mouth to quiet the cracking that comes over my voice.
All I can see in my mind is Zoe, Holly, and Rosa. The thought of someone like Cillian taking them and selling them for his own gain makes my throat burn.
These girls were sold a promise of freedom, and I’ll be damned if I don’t help them walk away with just that.
“Don’t let this consume you Clara.”
“How can I not?”
“Because what you’re doing right now is enough. Every small action we take adds up.”
“It doesn’t feel like enough.”
Andre huffs a laugh, and I frown.
“What?”
“You sound like Marco.”
I glance sidelong at Andre and he’s looking at me with something like pride in his eyes.
“I’m glad he found you.”
“Me too.” Though as I stare out the window, my thoughts drift to what Marco is doing right now, and my stomach flutters with nerves.
I try to push the thoughts away, but it’s hard when the father of my children is walking into a warzone.
What if I never see him again?
I can’t help but shudder, and Andre glances over at me.
“You okay?”
“I’m worried about Marco.” I twist my fingers in my lap. “What if something goes wrong?”
Andre is silent for a while, which doesn’t make me feel much better. “You have to focus on why he’s doing this, Clara,” he eventually says. “It won’t take away the risk, but at least you know he’s doing something that will help a lot of people.”
I sigh. “I know.”
The forest surrounding us becomes denser as we approach the safehouse.
The path up to the house is lined with spotlights built into the ground.
The house itself looks like a renovated farmhouse, with slate gray paneling and a wrap-around porch with built-in floodlights to illuminate the exterior and security cameras at every corner.
It wasn’t what I was expecting at all, and yet I can see why Marco and Andre chose it.
Ignoring the cameras, the place looks warm and inviting, the sort of house an elderly couple would live in.
Though I have no doubt that all of the windows are bulletproof and there are even more security features hidden among the surrounding trees.
After all, this house serves a purpose. It’s the only thing standing in the way of these women and a life of sex slavery.
When Andre pulls the car up to the safehouse, I quickly climb out of the SUV and head around to open up the doors for the women. But Andre is immediately there, gently gripping my arm and pulling me away.
I look around but don’t see anything. “What’s wrong?”
He doesn’t answer right away, but his eyes flick toward the SUV, his body tense.
“It’s not safe,” he murmurs under his breath. “Not yet.”
I frown. “They’re scared, Andre. I just want to help.”
“I know. But they’ve been through hell, Clara. They’re disoriented and traumatized. What if one of them suddenly panics and lashes out?”
“They didn’t before.”
Andre shakes his head. “That doesn’t mean they won’t. If anything happened to you, Marco would kill me.”
I don’t want to be protected. I want to do something.
I swallow past the lump in my throat.
I’ve already scared Marco once when I willingly handed myself over to Tommaso, and it’s a miracle he even agreed to let me come with Andre tonight. So, I can understand Andre’s hesitation to let me get too close, but I can’t deny it still stings.
“Okay, I get it.”
“Thank you,” Andre says, his voice softening.
The sound of approaching footsteps has Andre and me turning.
A woman appears on the porch. She looks to be in her late fifties, with graying hair pulled into a bun and soft lines around her eyes. When she catches my eye, she offers me a warm smile.
“You must be Clara.” She descends the porch steps and crosses over to me. “I’m Margot. Andre told me you’d be helping.” Her voice is very gentle and calming, and I let out a long breath as I take her hand and shake it once. “How are they doing?” Her blue eyes flick to the SUV.
“They’re…scared. They don’t speak any English, so I couldn’t get much more from them than that.”
Margot’s brow furrows as she sighs. “I hate that we’re even having to do this. But what’s done is done. All we can do is make them feel comfortable and safe.”
I nod.
As I lead Margot around to the sliding door of the SUV, I notice that Andre has wandered off toward the edge of the property where a bunch of men dressed in all black with guns strapped to their backs have appeared.
I must let out a small sound of surprise as Margot’s gaze follows mine, and she gently places a hand on my arm.
“They’re just the security. They won’t hurt us.”
They might not hurt us, but Cillian will if he learns of what Marco has done…
It turns out that Margot speaks fluent Spanish, so she is able to communicate with the women a lot better than I could.
They silently file out of the car, and we lead them inside the safehouse, all while Margot continues to talk in a calm tone. A few of the older girls speak to her in return, no doubt asking her questions, but the younger ones seem too shell-shocked to speak.
My heart aches for them, and I wish I could wrap them all up in my arms and tell them that everything will be all right. But the truth is, even once Cillian is taken care of, what will happen to these women?
The interior of the safehouse is all open plan, with a huge sectional couch and a fire blazing in the hearth. There are piles of blankets and plates of food and bottles of water laid out on the table, which Margot immediately starts handing around to the girls.
She translates some of what the girls are saying to her as we get them settled, and with each story she passes on to me, my heart breaks a little more.
Some of these girls were escaping violent parents, gangs, or war zones. They knew what they were signing up for when they agreed to be smuggled here, but they just didn’t realize how bad it would be, how trapped they would become.
“Why would they ever agree to this?”
“Because despite everything, sex work, even if not by choice, was still a better option.” Margot’s expression is grave. “At least here it was just another price to pay for the hope of a better future.”
I fight the urge to throw up at her words.
One of the younger girls catches my eye, and her lip trembles as she inches closer to me. She looks to be about thirteen or fourteen, with rich brown eyes and hair to match.
“Safe here?” she asks in broken English.
I blink back tears as I gently reach for her hand, nodding my head. “Yes. You’re safe now. Andre and his men will protect you.”
Margot repeats the message in Spanish, and something shifts in the girl's eyes, a mix of hope and disbelief.
I know she wants to believe me, but after everything that she’s been through, she likely doesn’t know how. But she squeezes my hand back, and I force myself to smile despite the lump in my throat.
I have to stay strong for these girls.
Once they’re all settled and tucking into the food, I step away for a moment to grab some more water bottles from the fridge and to check in with Andre.
He’s pacing near the front door, staring at the phone in his hand with a deep frown on his face.
Hope and dread war inside me. “Have you heard from Marco?”
He shakes his head, his eyes still fixed on his phone. “Not yet, but I’m sure he’s fine.”
I want to believe him, but I catch the flicker of tension in his eyes, and my stomach twists.
Something is wrong. I can feel it deep in my bones.
As much as I want to push him to tell me if he knows something, anything, I need to keep my focus on the group of women currently huddled around in front of the fire.
Marco only agreed to let me come along tonight because I promised I could help, so that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
I trust Marco enough to stay safe. He wouldn’t leave his children without a father, so I’m sure whatever is going on is likely just a complication.
At least, that’s what I’m choosing to tell myself.
I’m about to head back over to the women, my arms loaded with water and more snacks, when a gunshot rings in my ears, and my blood runs cold.
Everything happens so quickly.
Men yell outside, and footsteps pound on the porch.
“What’s goin?—”
Andre moves in front of me.
“Get down, now !” He wraps an arm around my waist, shoving me back toward the kitchen.
The bottles of water go crashing to the floor, and I cry out when the front door is blasted off its hinges.
The women are all screaming as more gunfire sounds, and Margot is desperately trying to talk to them in Spanish.
The second my eyes lock with the man standing in the doorway, the world around me goes quiet.
“No…” I stumble backward.
Ben is standing in the doorway, his gun raised, and his eyes wild.
Andre spins around, instinctively pulling his own gun from the waistband of his pants.
But he’s not quick enough.
I watch in slow motion as Ben pulls the trigger, his arm jolting with the shot.
A scream lodges itself in my throat as Andre stumbles backward into me, his hands clutching at his abdomen as blood starts to coat his fingers.
One second, he’s standing in front of me, a wall of muscle and strength, and the next he’s on the floor, struggling to catch his breath.
“No!” I lunge for Andre.
“Sit down, little sister.” Ben’s voice, cold and emotionless, has my body freezing.
My eyes slowly lift to meet his, and when I find him pointing his gun at me, I barely even flinch.
A part of me isn’t even surprised.
We might be of the same blood, but we haven’t been a family in a very long time.
I don’t want to leave Andre unattended, but if I don’t do as he says, I have no doubt that Ben would think nothing of putting a bullet in my chest too, and I can’t afford to let him take me down too. Not until I make sure Andre and the women here are safe, at least.
I look down at the floor.
Andre’s gun lies discarded a few feet away.
I’ve never fired a gun in my life, but I’ll do it. I’ll shoot my own brother to protect my family.
If I can just get to it?—
“Don’t even think about it,” Ben warns and I flinch. “Sit down, now .”
My whole body trembles as I slowly walk away from Andre, the sounds of his haggard breathing making my vision blur with tears.
He can’t die. He just can’t.
Lila and Holly flash through my mind, and my knees almost give out beneath me.
This is not how their story is meant to end. They have another baby coming, and that baby deserves to meet their father, too.
I have to find a way to get Marco here, otherwise Andre will end up bleeding out on the kitchen floor.
My heart hammers in my chest as I slowly lower myself down on the couch beside Margot.
She’s deathly still, but her eyes are furiously scanning the room, no doubt trying to come up with a plan herself.
Ben paces the room with his phone pressed to his ear, and the women flinch with every step he takes.
My brother looks like a wild animal, with his jaw now sporting a scraggly beard, and his skin has an almost grayish undertone to it.
He looks panicked as he talks into his phone, so every time he gets within a few feet of me, I quickly avert my eyes so I don’t provoke him.
His gun is still in his hand, his finger hovering over the trigger.
One wrong move, and it will all be over.
I strain my ears, trying to make sense of what he’s muttering under his breath. I can’t quite catch every word, but what I do understand is that he was expecting someone else to be here.
And that someone is Marco.
I watch Ben from beneath my lashes, not wanting to take my eyes off of him as he moves about the room.
Despite my racing heart, the adrenaline is keeping my mind calm.
Every second that passes brings Andre closer to death, and I refuse to let that happen.
He might have made a promise to Marco to keep me safe, but little does he know that such a promise goes both ways.
I will not be the one to tell Lila that her husband is dead.
I need to think.
Fast.
I can’t overpower Ben without a weapon, and I doubt I can run.
Ben likely isn’t working alone, so leaving this house isn’t an option.
But I can reach for my phone.
Slowly, I slide it from the pocket of my leggings, keeping it hidden from Ben’s eyes behind the throw pillow beside me.
My fingers shake as I pull up my call history and press Marco’s name.
As it begins to ring, I slide the phone between the couch cushions and pray that he answers, that he hears something that will give away our situation.
Because without him, Andre is going to die.