“What kind of interesting things?” My eyes keep bouncing between the two of them.
“All kinds of things that Mitzy’s crew are going to have a fucking field day with.” Griff places his hand on my shoulder. “We hit pay dirt. Thus, the dillydallying. Met some resistance. Took care of shit. Locked other shit down.”
“You didn’t do that yourselves.” No way would they leave something like that unsecured.
“Bravo team stepped up. Max and Brady figured since most of Bravo team was already on-site, why not stand the team back up. They’re securing the building. Forest has others securing the house.”
Max wanders over. “Got a minute?” He squeezes the back of my neck and looks me in the eye.
“Uh, yeah?” I glance around. There’s nothing left for me to do, other than see how Maria is doing. There’s something in Max’s tone, however, that puts me on alert. “What’s up?”
“Just need a moment.” He looks at Wolfe and Griff. They take two steps back, letting Max and me pass. Max leads me to the other side of the room. He stops and releases me.
“What the fuck?” The air handlers make quick work of the smoke from the canister, but it still reeks down here. Or, maybe it’s me that stinks to high heaven. “What’s wrong?”
“I just wanted to talk.”
“About?”
He glances at our prisoners and presses his lips together.
“About what?” I press him to get on with it.
“There’s really no way to say it.” Max takes in a deep breath.
“Then spit it out.” I shrug. “What’s up?”
“It’s about the snuff.” The way he looks at me makes me pause.
“What about it? From the videos of Sybil and Zoe, Marco’s our guy.” Yes, Muriel was there, but Marco is the real monster.
I’ve been thinking about it ever since Maria and I discovered the videos. Both Sybil and Zoe were placed with the young women who were to be killed. We barely saved Zoe, and because of what Eve’s father, Carson Deverough, spilled, we knew Sybil was to be killed as well.
Marco videotaped both Zoe and Sybil when they were young. He slept with Sybil. I don’t know if he slept with Zoe, but I feel like that probably didn’t happen. But Marco was obsessed with both girls. I assume that obsession turned into something darker.
Max takes a breath which hitches on its way in. He ducks his head and finds something overly interesting about the bloodstains on the floor. I tap him on the shoulder. He looks up and rubs at his jaw.
“Marco didn’t commission the snuff films.”
“Then we sic Griff on him and force him to tell us who did.”
“We don’t need Griff for that.”
“Why?” I scratch my head. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“They were … executions.”
“Not snuff?” I take a step back. “What did any of those girls do to get themselves executed?”
We’ve all seen the tapes of what was done to the women in Colombia when we rescued Zoe. Using the strict definition of the word, snuff is a pornographic movie of an actual murder. I suppose it wasn’t snuff.
Just torture and death.
“It’s snuff, just not in the way you’d think.” Max glances over at Maria. “Mitzy told me not to say anything, but I couldn’t not tell you.”
“Mitzy? What does she have to do with this?”
“She said you’d lose your shit. Promise me you’ve got a handle on your emotions.”
“My emotions?” I scrunch my brows. “We having a Kumbaya moment here? My emotions are locked down tight, like they always are.”
“We’ll see about that.” Max’s scowl darkens. “We reviewed the videotapes you watched in the library with Maria, but it’s what’s on the thumb drives that makes this some fucked up shit.”
“What’s on the thumb drives?”
“Files of the six girls killed when we saved Zoe and other … things.” Max’s hesitation sends chills down my spine
“What other things?”
“Video of who paid for them.”
“Video of what? Of them watching?”
“Yes.” Max gives me a look.
“It was Marco. No secret there. Maria and I watched one of the tapes.”
Max glances back at Marco, Muriel, and the goons. It takes me a few times to realize who he’s looking at, and it isn’t Marco.
“Holy fucking hell.” I run my fingers through my hair, embarrassed that they shake. “Muriel is the client?”
I blame it on the excess adrenaline still circulating in my blood rather than the monster sitting in plain sight.
51
MARIA
I’m not sure how I got out of Marco’s weird subterranean bunker or how long I was passed out.
I wake in a plane.
Not an ordinary plane. It’s a massive jumbo jet kitted out with plush, leather seats, computer screens attached to the bulkheads, and what appears to be a mini-medical suite.
“Where am I?” I try to sit, but a hand to my shoulder holds me down.
“Stay put, princess.” Liam leans over me, filling my vision with his perfect face swollen and cut up in several places.
“What happened to you?” I reach up, then realize plastic tubing hangs from my arm. “What happened to me?”
And what’s that low droning sensation I feel more than hear?
I’m in a bed with a crisp white sheet pulled over me. IV tubing snakes from my arm and attaches to half-empty bags hanging from an IV pole.
“You’re in one of Guardian HRS’s jets. We’re flying you back to headquarters.”
“Headquarters? Where’s that?”
I’m in a jet, so I’m guessing New Orleans is not the correct answer.
“California.”
Liam takes my hand in his and cups it between his massive hands. He lifts my hand to kiss the back and rewards me with a twinkle in one eye. His other eye is swollen shut.
“You look like crap. Are you sure you’re okay?” I reach for his face, but he’s too far away. “Shouldn’t you be in bed instead of me?”
“As much as I’d like to crawl into that incredibly small bed, that’s going to have to wait.”
“I didn’t mean with me.” Then it all comes rushing back. Marco wailing on Liam, then lifting the knife to … “What happened to me?”
“First off, you’re safe. Secondly, you’re going to be okay.”
“Firstly, tell me what the hell happened. I hate being treated like I can’t handle whatever it is I need to handle.” The thing is, I feel pretty good. Too good come to think of it. “Am I on drugs?”
“Only the best painkillers on the planet.” Again, his one blue eye twinkles.
“I guess that’s why I don’t feel any pain.” I curl my fingers around his hand. “Liam, what happened? And don’t sugarcoat it for me. I can take it.”
“Your uncle cut you. You lost a lot of blood. Axel stabilized you, and Doc Summers patched you up. You’re on painkillers and a shit ton of medicines I can’t pronounce to help against infection.”