Page 33 of Soulmate of the Mafia King
I didn’t bother trying to answer their questions. Yet another van of women pulled up, this time from the ambush planned on Rahim’s warehouse. Those women were in rougher shape because the suitcase of supplies got taken to Zahur’s house. I watched as the team of doctors swarmed over and began tending to the women there. Through all of the chaos, I just kept looking for Killian. In the middle of the drive, he’d gotten a call I couldn’t really overhear, then pulled off to the side of the road, switched one of the other men into the driver’s seat, and called himself a taxi. When I demanded answers, all he’d said was, “Tommaso,” before sending us to the airstrip. And if I didn’t find him soon, my heart was going to explode out of my chest.
The crowd parted. I expected to see Killian. He gave off an energy I knew would make most recently escaped womenscatter. But instead, I found a dark-haired woman I didn’t recognize striding toward me, alongside?—
My heart leapt into my mouth.Alongside Grace, one of the women I’d known in Zahur’s house. The one who never spoke. She’d been there before me, before McKenna. I tumbled back through my memories to our moment of introductions in that awful place. I couldn’t remember who knew her name, or how since she never spoke. All I knew was that it was passed down through the groups of women like an oral history. My chest squeezed. Oh, God, how long had she been there?
“Are you the person in charge here?” the dark-haired woman asked.
“I—uh, that is—” I couldn’t look away from Grace. She barely looked at me, her gaze alighting on my shoulder, my lips, my hair, for a split second apiece.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. I was losing them. But I couldn’t fight the memories and my worries about Tom. Too many things fought for my attention.
“Look, my name is Cora, and I’m the one to talk to about what we need.” She crossed her arms across her chest. “I can ask someone else. You just seemed like you knew something.” Cora started to turn away.
Like jumpstarting a car, I snapped back to attention. These women needed me. Even Grace. Especially Grace. Deep breath.
“Yes, no, I’m the one,” I said. “I have toiletries and other supplies. I can tell you more about the shelter and what will happen when we arrive in Philly.”
Cora looked me over. “Okay.”
The familiar rhythm of work overtook me. The doctors Dr. Martinez had suggested were a lot like her, businesslike but kind. I texted Lauren to warn her how many women we were bringing back. I bounced between the two groups of women, making sure everyone had clean, comfortable clothes, food, aquick wash in the airstrip sink. Cora worked side-by-side with me, and I learned she used to be a cop. She’d gone undercover with a trafficking ring, and things had gone bad. She’d decided to leave the force as soon as she got home. Distantly, I wondered if she might like to come work at the Haven, but I didn’t say anything yet. There was too much to do here. Grace, I noticed, always stood a bit away from wherever the biggest group of women was, her hands clenched like she was ready to fight. I didn’t approach her.
And the whole time, a corner of my mind kept worrying about Tom, wondering where Killian was. I couldn’t help noticing we were short two doctors from the contingent we agreed upon. Stan was no help. He only knew Killian told him to come to the hotel. Carp was nowhere to be seen, and Teddy kept bitching about the fact that he didn’t get to blow up some wall because Zahur wasn’t there. I handed one woman a bag of jerky, fruit, and cheese I’d packed for quick meals, and she handed most of it back. Fuck, right, she was a vegetarian and was offended by the meat. I nodded an apology—she didn’t speak English, but the woman next to her spoke both—and turned away to go get the food she’d actually requested.
Killian appeared through the crowd. My heart skipped a beat. I raced toward him, everything else falling out of my mind. Even through the chaos at the airstrip, I could see his expression was drawn. He looked tired, frustrated. I skidded to a stop in front of him.
“Where’s Tom?” I demanded.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Already gone.”
My stomach dropped. “Gone?”
“No, no.” Killian scowled. “He needed emergency surgery, and anywhere we took him here would’ve been disastrous. Carp worked something out with the airstrip, got a smaller plane to fly him out immediately.”
My stomach rose slowly back up through my body. “So he’s not dead?”
“Not yet.”
I sank my teeth into my lower lip. Killian didn’t sound optimistic.
“So, what now? Do we just fly home to meet him?” I didn’t ask how the hell he was surviving a flight back to Philly. Killian wouldn’t have done anything that would kill Tom, and neither would the doctors.
Someone began sobbing loudly behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, but the women had already begun congregating around the crying one, so I couldn’t figure out who it was or what they needed.
Killian shook his head. “Get them together so they can board. We’ll talk then.”
“What? No?—”
He strode away. The sobbing grew louder. I looked back and forth between the two. Whatever Killian had done for me tonight, I got the feeling he wouldn’t change his mind, no matter how many times I asked. He was stillMano Della Morte, and that meant he was used to making his own calls. Asshole. I turned and sped back to the women. The faster I got them ready to leave, the faster I’d know what was happening with Tom. No matter how much every fiber of my body screamed at me to chase Killian down and shake him until he talked.
Finally, everyone was ready. Fed, clean, at least patched up enough for a plane ride. The sobbing came from a woman coming to terms with her freedom after two years of imprisonment. I lined them up and started them filing onto the plane. Killian drifted into my peripheral vision.
“Tell me. Now,” I murmured.
“This plane is going to Philadelphia,” he said.
“I fucking know that,” I snapped.
“Tommaso is in Jordan,” he continued. “If you want to see him, you have to send the plane back without you.”
