Page 163 of Strays
I wrench it open, and she’s there.
Slumped against the seat. Wrists and ankles bound with zip-ties. Eyes half-lidded.
My arms go around her instinctively, and I yank her from the car.
Jay’s beside me in a second. Then Shane. They press close, each of us trying to touch her. Hold her. Prove to ourselves she’s real.
The hum in our chests is wild, rising through bone and breath. It wraps around her, around us, filling the air with something low and living. We support her together, three bodies holding one.
“Jo,” I whisper. “We’re here. We’ve got you. You’re safe now.”
She doesn’t answer, but a tear slides down her cheek.
Long live the misfits
The outsiders, the cast-outs
The lost ones, the breakaways
All hail the long shots
The overlooked, the unwanted
All the black sheep
The pariahs, the throwaways
The wildest few
The ones who own their own lives
And refuse to live by others’ rules.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Whatever Happens Here, We Remain
One by one, the other packs emerge from their posts. They approach slowly, eyes scanning, weapons lowered. No one speaks; they just circle the lot, forming a loose perimeter around us.
Shane pulls away from us first. He reaches for his phone and calls 911.
“My nyra. Recovered from a trafficking site. Unresponsive, but breathing. No visible bleeding.”
He pauses. “Yes. Law enforcement. No, not on duty. Get us a bus. Fast.”
He ends the call, jaw set tight, and his eyes meet mine. “ETA seven minutes.”
I scan the lot and spot a quiet corner against the warehouse wall, away from the bodies. I carry Jo there, cradled tight against my chest.
My brothers follow close, and together we sink to the ground.
Shane settles to my right, slips an arm under Jo’s shoulders, and eases her head onto his chest. Jay drops to my left and gently lifts her legs across his lap. I keep my hands on her hips, anchoring her between us.
Her uncles appear in front of us, all three crouching low, faces tight. They look at her like they can’t believe she’s there. Jean reaches forward and rests a hand on her head, his fingers brushing her hairline.
He looks up at us. “You did it.”
I close my eyes, leaning my head back against the wall. “We did.”
