Page 39 of Pay the Price

My brother had planned to sell me. He’d been working with my dad.

And my dad had tried again when he’d had Calvin kidnap me.

I remembered the way my dad looked at me the day I’d told him I was moving out, the way he’d always looked at me: like I was a piece of furniture that didn’t quite suit the house, something he needed to have replaced.

Something he’d just as soon be rid of.

I almost forgot to breathe.

“We’ll go to the police.” The story they were telling was too outrageous to be believed, but I was willing to admit there were some red flags — definitely with Blake, and maybe even with my dad.

“The police?” Jace cursed and shook his head. “Spoken like a true fucking princess.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that the great Charles Hammond — one of the biggest donors to the Blackwell Police Benevolent Association — probably isn’t going to get the full investigative treatment from the Blackwell Police Department,” Jace said.

“But… they’re the police.” As soon as I said it, I realized how naive it sounded.

Naive and stupid.

“I think what Jace is saying is that it’s going to sound pretty unbelievable if you walk into the police department and accuse your dad of trafficking girls,” Wolf said. “But then it’ll be out. They’ll either talk to him just to act like they’re doing their jobs or someone will leak it to him.”

“And then he’ll go further underground with the whole thing,” Otis said.

“You drop this bombshell about my dad and then don’t want me to go to the police?” I said. “Sounds shady.”

“Let’s game it out,” Otis said.

“What do you mean?”

“You go to the police and tell them you think your dead brother was planning to traffic you,” Otis said. “Now you think your dad is trying to do the same thing. Assuming the BPD isn’t already in your dad’s pocket — and I think that’s a big assumption — how do they respond?”

I imagined it: walking into the little building off Main Street that housed the tiny Blackwell Police Department, saying Iwanted to talk to someone about a crime, sitting across from one of the bored officers that shot the shit outside Jo’s Diner, telling them my dad was selling girls.

I didn’t have to go any further to know how it would play out: they’d think I was crazy, the bored hysterical daughter of the town’s most upstanding citizen.

I looked down at my hands, feeling defeated. I wasn’t sure I believed the Beasts about my dad (I’d think about Blake later, when it didn’t feel like someone was ripping my heart out), but I didn’tnotbelieve them either.

There were too many coincidences to ignore: Blake’s mention of the boss and the fact that Blake probably hadn’t been capable of organizing a trafficking ring at the age of eighteen, the girls that had gone missing since Blake’s murder, Calvin shoving me into the car like it was nothing.

Like he’d done it before.

“What am I supposed to do with all of this?” I finally asked.

“Nothing right now.” Wolf’s voice was gentle. “Just… let us protect you at least.”

I wished there wasn’t so much between us, because right then all I wanted was to walk into his arms, feel him kiss the top of my head and tell me everything was going to be okay. “By moving back into the house you mean.”

“We can’t keep you safe at Cassie’s.” Jace shot an annoyed glance at Otis. “Fucking Otis in the guest bedroom doesn’t count.”

My cheeks flamed but Otis just shrugged, like it was true.

Because it was.

Cassie’s apartment couldn’t be made safe without turning the building into a fortress. Not only was it impractical, but I couldn’t do that to her. This was my problem.

“What happens if I move back here?” I asked.

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