Page 54 of Ripped Veil (Ripped Bratva)

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Char.”

“It must have been intense,” she says cautiously. “That night…”

I bite my lip and glance at Theo. Charity is the one who taught me never to trust anyone with your past. She’d stood by her point by never asking me details about that night—or any of the nights that preceded it.

The nights I can’t remember. The nights that exist in my head as only a black, shrouded mystery.

Practically my whole life, locked inside my brain with the key left somewhere out in that godforsaken desert.

“It was intense,” I agree. “It was… more than I bargained for.”

She looks like she wants to keep digging, but true to form, she stops herself. If I’m not offering, I know she won’t pry. It’s one of the things I love most about Charity. She may be a little rough around the edges sometimes. But she’s all heart.

So instead of interrogating me, she just nods and strokes the back of my hand. We sit that way quietly for a while, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

“Astra Tyrannis,” I mutter after a few silent minutes have passed, the name sticking in my memory now. “What is it?”

She sighs. “Elyssa…”

“Please don’t treat me like a child, Char,” I whisper. “I know I’m not as worldly as you are, but that doesn’t mean I don’t deserve the truth when I ask for it.”

Charity rests her hand on mine. Theo reaches out and tries to join in with his chubby little fingers.

“You’re right,” she says with a sympathetic nod. “The only reason I didn’t tell you is because I didn’t want you to worry.”

“I’m not worrying. I’m asking.”

She hesitates for one beat more before she sighs again and starts to explain. “Astra Tyrannis. It’s an… organization, I guess you’d call it. Rumor is they started in Europe, then spread to the East Coast—New York, I think. Then here, sometime in the last ten or twenty years. They sell—or, I guess, trade, or whatever…” She pauses again. Then, in the tiniest, meekest voice I’ve ever heard from her, she finishes, “… people.”

I stare at her in shock. “They sell people,” I repeat numbly. “Human beings.”

Charity nods. “They abduct girls and women and sell them in the black markets. Auctions and the like.”

“To do what with?” I ask.

When she answers with nothing more than a raise of her eyebrows, I feel like a complete imbecile.

“Oh God,” I breathe. “Charity! The detective came to the shelter for you. And if he’s connected to this organization…”

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you, Lys. I don’t want you worrying about this.”

“Your job lands you in all the wrong places. Today proves that. Your face proves that!”

She waves a hand. “I’m fine.”

“Do you wanna take a look in the mirror? You don’t look fine! Those bruises don’t look fine!”

“They’ll heal,” she says calmly. “You’re the one who told me that.”

In a matter of hours, we’ve switched back to our natural roles. Charity is calm and in control. I’m the nervous wreck who needs consoling.

“Oh God,” I say again, shaking my head. “Is that why you insisted we come here with him?”

“From what he said, he seems to be fightingagainstAstra Tyrannis,” Charity says. “The cop, on the other hand… Well, I figured it was our best bet to stay at a safe hideaway until this blows over.”

She’s acting like this is a temporary situation. A stopgap before we move on.

Somehow, I don’t think so.

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