“Thank you,” she replied, a huge, adorable smile on her face.
She kept talking as we made dinner and ate, telling me everything she knew about the job, and coming up with fundraising ideas. As I cleaned up the kitchen, she came up behind me, wrapping her arms around me.
“So, will you teach me Spanish?” she asked, her voice seductive.
“I’d love to,” I answered, turning around to study her. She was beautiful, and I was so glad that she was home safe, and that she was mine. She was everything, and I never wanted to let her go.
Her hair was in a bun on the top of her head, and a few strands had fallen loose. I tucked a piece behind her ear, needing to touch her. “Let’s start the lessons now,” I said.
“Okay,” she responded, licking her lips in anticipation.
“The first word I want you to learn is el beso. It means kiss,” I said, leaning down and kissing her.
When I finally let her go, her eyes had glazed over with pleasure. “Oh, I like that. El beso.” Her voice was breathy as she repeated it.
“Good,” I praised softly, watching her blush. “Are you ready for your next word?”
“Yes,” she answered, barely a whisper.
I grazed my lips in the spot between her neck and her shoulder, making her shiver. “El cuello is neck,” I told her.
“El cuello,” she repeated. “What else?”
“La mordedura means bite,” I said. Then, I grabbed the bun she’d put her hair in, tilting her head and nipping her skin in the same place I’d just kissed her. Then I moved to her collarbone, skimming a finger across it. “This is la clavícula.”
Kassidy hummed in pleasure, no longer repeating the words.
“El culo means butt,” I said as I put my hands under hers and picked her up. She gasped quietly, then wrapped her legs around my waist.
“Me perteneces y te pertenezco,” I whispered into her ear.
“What does that mean?” she asked.
“It means that you belong to me, and I belong to you,” I answered. Then I kissed her, and our Spanish lessons were over, at least temporarily.
Kassidy
Harper had told me about how St. Christopher’s Refuge had been attacked in February, and that they’d ended up re-building the shelter somewhere new, for a couple of reasons. The location was supposed to be confidential to keep everyone safe, but it obviously wasn’t a secret anymore after a group of sex traffickers attacked the building, and then police and EMTs responded. They also decided that the original location could be traumatizing for women who’d been injured or forced to hide during the attack, and would no longer be a place of peace or healing. I appreciated how much they took the survivors’ needs into account, and it made me admire the non-profit even more.
The new location had just recently opened, and as I walked inside for the first time, I had to stop and take everything in. The lobby area had high ceilings, and the lighting was warm and welcoming, with a fireplace and cozy couches. Then, Harper took me past the lobby to the conference rooms and the office area, pointing out where I would be working from. Then, she took me through a hallway to another part of the building. The upper floors had enough rooms for 100 women, although they weren’t planning to take that many in right away, and each residential floor featured a common area with its own small fireplace and more comfortable seating. The bottom level had a cafeteria, a gym, and a large art room with tons of supplies, including rows of easels. The building was comfortable, clean, spacious, and had technology and other items, which the trafficking survivors would love. It felt like a home, not a shelter.
“This is really nice,” I told Harper in astonishment once she’d finished the tour.
“We had insurance money. And dedicated supporters,” she said humbly with a shrug. I knew she’d played a big part in designing the building.
After the tour, I got to work. It didn’t take long for me to settle in, quickly starting to plan some fundraising events, and in my spare time, I continued to work on my Spanish. I could already tell that this was where I was meant to be. Not just at the shelter, but in DC, with Evan. It was perfect.
EPILOGUE
EVAN
One week later…
“Tex sent us something,” Nolan said when he walked into work that morning.
“Really?” I asked. “What did he send?”
Nolan handed a thick, padded envelope to me with a smirk, and I looked inside, then pulled out the contents. Two small boxes were inside, along with a letter. I decided to open the boxes first.
“Earrings?” I asked as I opened the first box. They were small, diamond studs. “These are definitely not my style,” I told Nolan jokingly. Then I opened the second box, which held another pair of the same earrings. I glanced up at Nolan in confusion.
“Read the letter,” Nolan said simply.
“Dear Nolan and Evan,” I started, reading aloud. “Like many of my friends, it seems that you two have trouble keeping track of your women. For that reason, I’m sending earrings to Kassidy and Harper to wear. Each set has a small tracker embedded inside, and I’m the only one who can access their location in case of an emergency. Hopefully you won’t lose your women again, but if you do, I can find them. Sincerely, your friend Tex.”
I started laughing, and Nolan joined in. Soon, we were doubled over, holding our stomachs in pain and wiping tears of laughter from our eyes.
“They’re nice earrings, though. I’m sure Harper will like them,” Nolan said seriously once he’d calmed down.
“Kassidy will, too,” I agreed.
Before we could say anything else, though, we noticed Knox and some of the other team members getting up and rushing to the reception area. We followed them, and then we saw Knox’s childhood best friend, Penny. She was crying, tears running down her cheeks as she spoke to Knox, her hands gripping his arms.
“Some of my students are being trafficked,” she sobbed, and Nolan and I glanced at each other knowingly.
“She may need a pair of earrings, too,” I whispered.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Thank you for reading Worth the Fight! It was a labor of love, and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
As always, I want to call attention to the non-profit organization Deliver Fund. They make a huge difference in the fight against human trafficking, and they were a big inspiration for writing this series. I encourage you to learn more about them and their cause.
Finally, I want to thank my mom, my husband, and my friends Terry, Brooke, Kristy, and Kristen for helping me with this book. I couldn’t have done it without you!
Book 3, starring Penny and Knox, will be out next!
ALSO BY KRISTIN LYNN
Worth It Series
Worth the Risk
Worth the Fight
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kristin Lynn has always had a passion for stories. Before she could read or write on her own, she was dictating “books” to her mother to write down. When she was older, she loved writing stories, and she often snuck in extra reading time after bedtime, using a flashlight under the covers. During college and for several years after graduating, Kristin worked as a journalist, before returning to school and earned her Master’s degree in Social Work (MSW).