Avery was sobbing, the sounds of numerous children rising from his memories to join with him. He couldn’t stop them. He couldn’t get them out of his mind. He’d enjoyed wrecking them. Wrecking their bodies. It had been such delicious fun. Now . . . he just wanted everything to stop.
“I swear I don’t know. I’ve never seen him. I don’t know him at all.” He was babbling, but he couldn’t stop. He begged Savage to stop. He’d do anything if Savage would stop.
He’s telling the truth, Absinthe said.
Czar swore. They needed the name. If Terrance Marshal was the only one who knew the man for certain, they were in trouble. They wouldn’t find him soon. He had to know by now someone was coming for him. He’d be in hiding. They’d get him, because they’d never give up, but this wasn’t going to end in the way they’d hoped.
Savage and Ice spent another hour with Avery Charles. He didn’t know the name of the Russian. He didn’t know much of anything worthwhile. They got two more names of men in the pedophile ring, but that was it.
Kill him, Czar said. We can’t take a chance this time. We came in as clean as we could, but there might be sweat or something else left behind. We’ll burn this place down. Remove everything from any safe you’ve found, and don’t forget the one in the basement. Take the pictures off the wall and leave them out where they can be found. We don’t want anyone thinking Avery, Harold, Jay or David were good men.
It took another hour to sift through evidence and decide what to leave for the authorities to find. Mechanic and Transporter wired the house to blow, starting in the basement and going room by room so there would be no recovering from the damage. It was a place of horror, and they didn’t want it restored so someone else could create evil in it.
The wind blowing in from the ocean felt fresh and clean on their faces and bodies as they rode home. They took the back roads, riding to try to push away the memories of the children they hadn’t saved, both in Russia and here, so close to where they had their homes. There was no way for the wind to clear the demons of their childhood from their minds.TWENTYIce turned his head to look for his wife. He didn’t like being without her for very long. Standing on their back patio, dealing with the grill that wouldn’t seem to get clean, he was already missing her. She was in the house, saying her last good-byes to the others. As always, the women were lingering. Their men stood around watching them, little half smiles on their faces. He knew they’d give them a few minutes and then one of them would get antsy, usually Reaper, and he’d make his move to collect his woman and go.
Ice could see Soleil through the glass talking to Anya. The two were laughing and then Breezy, holding what looked like a photograph album on her lap, put a hand over her mouth and began fanning herself with the other one. Immediately, Soleil looked at the book, gasped and took it from her, closing it quickly. The women burst out laughing.
He fucking loved that. His world came right just watching Soleil enjoying herself. She wanted a family, and he’d provided that for her. Brothers. Sisters. A husband. He wasn’t an easy man to live with, but she didn’t seem to mind. She laughed a lot now. She seemed happy and confident, nearly all the time.
She looked up suddenly, her eyes meeting his through the glass, and his heart twisted hard in his chest. She could do that to him, cause a physical reaction that sometimes bordered on pain. He never wanted to be without her. If she was unhappy, his world wasn’t right, which meant he had to be careful that she didn’t realize he would do anything for her. Any damn thing at all. She blew him a kiss and turned her attention back to the women, and he went back to tackling the maintenance on the grill from hell.
He’d put the thing together with a little help from Storm. First time using it and the wheel had come off, nearly dumping all the chicken he’d been grilling—okay, not him. Absinthe had been grilling. He was certain that Storm had worked on that side of the grill until the upper rack had collapsed onto the lower one. That had to be Storm’s work.
It might have been a disaster, but Soleil had been laughing so hard, nothing else mattered to him, and immediately, Absinthe had saved the dinner for everyone by cooking it over the firepit. Ice didn’t mind the ribbing; he was used to it when it came to cooking. Clearly, he was never going to be the best at grilling, but screw the barbecues, he could live without having them at his home. He’d have parties and bring food in.