Chapter Two

TWO

"What do you think, Maestro?" Lyov "Steele" Russak, the vice president of Torpedo Ink, asked. "We're under the gun with this one. You don't have a lot of time to get the job done if Billows is holding prisoners. We don't know if he's gotten in a new shipment of victims, but we need to find out."

Steele might be one of the younger members of the club, but he was highly intelligent and a skilled surgeon and, most importantly, he had developed his abilities to be able to heal with his mind and hands. Married to Breezy, he was the only member of their club besides their president with a young son.

Two hundred eighty-seven children were taken from their parents and placed in a school run by a high-powered man. He had their families murdered, and those children were to be shaped into assets for their country—taught to be assassins. The instructors were sadistic pedophiles who grew crueler as they were encouraged to treat the children any way they desired. Only eighteen survived the vicious abuses of the school. At least they believed only eighteen survived. Recently, a nineteenth survivor had joined them.

His name was Rurik "Destroyer" Volkov. Destroyer was a large man covered in prison tattoos, as he'd spent a great deal of time in one of the worst prisons in Russia. He was still learning to be a part of the Torpedo Ink world.

The club members were in their meeting room, where they often met when discussing club business. The room was large, with a bank of windows on one side allowing views of the ocean. The table was huge, oval in shape and made of solid oak.

Torpedo Ink had purchased the old paymaster's building in Caspar to renovate into their existing clubhouse as well as the surrounding land. The compound was extremely large and was surrounded by a high chain-link fence. Razor wire on top of the fence and tall rolling gates gave the appearance of a fortress. The side yard was a full acre with views of the ocean, and held fire pits, benches and the beginning of gardens. Most of the meadow was still wildflowers and brush, but they were slowly taming it.

The common room was very spacious. A long curving bar with a gleaming oak finish was on one side of the room. Stools were pushed up to the bar. In the center of the room were tables and chairs. On the opposite side from the bar and in front of a gas fireplace comfortable chairs and couches were positioned for conversation. The bedrooms were in the back part of the building, where most outsiders were never invited.

Andrii "Maestro" Federoff shook his head at Steele. "You know these kinds of relationships aren't built overnight. It takes time to build the kind of trust needed between us for me to get the information we want."

"We need to find these women if Billows is holding them. We know he trains them as sex slaves," Steele said. "If he has victims and they're auctioned off before we can get to them, we don't have a prayer of ever getting them back."

Andrii was well aware. He wouldn't have gone along with this assignment if the stakes weren't so high.

Viktor "Czar" Prakenskii, the president of Torpedo Ink, Maestro's motorcycle club, studied his hard features. Maestro kept his expression a mask. No one wanted Czar's scrutiny. He had a way of seeing into a man or woman and knowing their secrets. Maestro had too many secrets he couldn't afford to expose.

"How hard is this going to be for you?"

The question was put to him in a mild, almost casual tone, but Maestro wasn't deceived. He'd been around the club president since they both were young children. Czar had saved his life on more than one occasion. Maestro was still undecided about whether that was a good thing. On some days, especially when he was around Czar's children or Steele's son, there was a lightness in him he vaguely recognized as happiness. His music gave him peace. He lived for his music. And there was his affinity with wood. At times just being in a work environment, hands on wood, gave him close to the same peace as music gave him.

"Maestro?" Czar pressed. Czar was a big man and very strong. His blue-gray eyes often could turn a liquid silver when he focused wholly on someone. His hair, worn long and usually pulled back at the nape of his neck, was black but streaked with silver.

Maestro knew he was taking too long to answer. Just thinking about Zelie sent strange waves of euphoria snaking through him. He didn't like the foreign sensation.

Maestro lifted one dark eyebrow, a smirk appearing briefly. "Easy target. She isn't going to be a problem. I made the approach. The connection was solid immediately." His smirk faded. "I'll say this much. She's gorgeous, intelligent and the real deal. That combination doesn't come along very often. In fact, I've never seen it. Not ever. Not once in all the women I've been with."

There was a stunned silence. The other members seated in the meeting room exchanged long shocked looks. "You're really attracted to her," Lazar "Keys" Alexeev blurted out.

Keys was his best friend. Together they played in the band Crows Flying. They owned a construction business, 287 Construction, with the two other band members. Keys and Maestro guarded Steele whether he liked it or not—and he didn't like it. They made it their business to keep him and his family safe. Keys had wide shoulders, dark hair and hazel eyes. He looked fit, his arms bulging with muscle that was more genetic than built in a gym.

"She got me hard as a fuckin' rock," Maestro admitted. "She didn't do anything but sit there looking at her tablet, with the sun shining through the window hitting all that hair."

Czar frowned. "That could be a problem for you, Maestro. Finding someone who fits with you and knowing you're deceiving her can take a toll."

Maestro's gut tightened unexpectedly. He didn't know why Zelie affected him the way she did. He didn't trust women or outsiders. He couldn't imagine anyone ever changing his mind. His childhood and teenage years had been horrific, thanks to the many betrayals and, worse, him losing those he cared about because they refused to listen. They refused to acknowledge anyone else's expertise.

He'd seen that trait in a few of the women his Torpedo Ink brethren had chosen for partners. He could never—would never—be able to put up with that type of what he considered reckless and willful disobedience. He knew he was a control freak when it came to anyone he cared for. The fear of losing them was so strong that he often said and did things that even his sisters and brothers in Torpedo Ink didn't understand. How could they, when he barely understood how he had become the way he was?

"She's a mark, Czar," Maestro reiterated, more for himself than Czar. "We have no idea if she's involved. This is the first time we've had solid information on anyone high up in this trafficking ring. How long have we been working on it? Two years? Three? How many women and children have been lost because we couldn't find names or places to look for them?"

All members were present as usual when they were deciding on something important. They might follow Czar, their president's, lead, but the policy was that everyone had a voice. The original members of Torpedo Ink had been joined by two of Czar's birth brothers, Gavriil and Casimir. Stamped with the Prakenskii looks, both had been held and trained in Sorbacov's schools of horror. The schools they attended weren't quite as bad as the one Czar had been taken to, but they suffered their own horrors, and more than once, Gavriil had been brought to Czar's school as a threat.

Torpedo Ink had one newly patched member, Fatei "Rock" Molchalin. Fatei had been with them almost from the beginning. He'd gone to the same school in Russia that Gavriil had attended. He didn't have the obvious muscle many of the Torpedo Ink members had, but he was strong and could always be counted on. They'd begun calling him Rock because he was the one they had learned over time they could count on. He was a quiet, intelligent man, and had proved his loyalty over and over.

"Unfortunately, he's right," Code said. Code was their main source of information. He could handle computers the way race car drivers drove on a speedway. When Code had been brought into the basement of the school where the other children were, he had been thin and frail, his eyes weak. Czar had recognized the genius, tenacity and loyalty in him. Code was a survivor and extremely valuable to Torpedo Ink. He was anything but thin and frail now. He had developed the physical strength to match his enormous intelligence. It didn't take much for him to get on the scent of a trail and track down whatever the club needed. But the hierarchy of the trafficking ring had eluded them. They were able, at times, to stop auctions and free the women and teens used for prostitution against their will, but those successes seemed few and far between.

"If we can't utilize this information and get to Alan Billows before he sends out the next batch of sex slaves he could be training, they'll be lost. We won't be able to get any of them back," Code added.

"But we don't know if this girl—woman—is involved," Alena "Torch" Koval objected. "Shouldn't we get more information on her before we destroy her self-esteem? We've learned the hard way that we should be more careful of how we handle human beings."

That was Alena. She tried to be tough, but she was soft on the inside. She'd given Maestro the premature silver streaks in his hair. Alena, like all of Torpedo Ink, had been trained to be an assassin. She was good at her job but lacked the toughness the rest of them had. She had compassion and empathy. Unfortunately, that could get her killed.

Alena was a beautiful woman, in Maestro's opinion, both inside and out. With her curvy body, platinum hair and icy blue eyes, she was striking. Coupled with her fast thinking and compassionate heart, she was extraordinary. Maestro thought of her as a younger sibling, a sister he protected even though she didn't believe she needed it. Younger birth sister of two Torpedo Ink members, Dmitry "Storm" Koval and Isaak "Ice" Koval, she owned the Crow 287 restaurant. Alena's ability to cook was undisputed.

Maestro tried to be fair. "I believe we need to act on the information we have. It took us too long to get it, and if we miss this opportunity, we may not get another one." If he was being honest with himself, he wanted to spend time with Zelie. He also wanted to do the right thing if Billows was holding prisoners.

"I watched her pay for two different orders for a couple of women who clearly needed it and couldn't afford it. She didn't make a big deal of it and did it anonymously. She often treats the older women who refer to themselves as the merry widows," he conceded.

"I looked into her financials," Code said. "She doesn't have much, but she's still generous to others. We've had eyes on her for three weeks, and she consistently helps the homeless, seniors, new mothers, and single dads. Most of her money goes to pay for her school, and living in San Francisco is expensive, even in a small studio apartment like hers."

Maestro found that last bit of information regarding single fathers irritating, which made no sense. "On a different day, I saw her help an older lady when the woman was confused, and two teenagers were laughing at her. Zelie gave them a look that said ‘back off' and took care of the woman, making certain she had her purse, glasses and food."

Alena sighed as she drummed her fingers on the end table beside the comfortable chair she occupied. "She doesn't sound like the kind of woman who would be involved in a human trafficking ring." She tilted her head to look up at the president of their club. "You tell us all the time that we need to find a way to fit into society. That we should keep learning to be better people. Taking this poor girl's life apart and destroying all trust, to get information she may not even have, doesn't sound like we're progressing to me."

"Alena." Maestro spoke as gently as possible. "I know you've experienced betrayal time and again. It hurts, but it can also make you strong. I'm not going in with a bulldozer. We know she has information that could be vital to us. She's central to getting inside the underground rooms situated below the nightclubs. She has keys to those rooms."

Maksimos "Ink" Korask, their resident and extremely popular tattoo artist, weighed in. He had wide shoulders and dark hair. His body was covered in tattoos, mostly of animals and birds. Ink was a phenomenal artist and had an affinity with the animals tattooed on his body. He owned Black Ink Tattoo, a popular tattoo parlor in the small town of Caspar.

"We've spent more than two years trying to get names, anything at all, to help us find a way to break this ring. If Billows has women trapped in those rooms below his club, we need to get them out of there. We also need answers from Billows."

Savva "Reaper" Pajari and his younger brother, Savin "Savage" Pajari, were the sergeants at arms for the club. Savage rarely spoke, but when he did, they all listened. He shaved his head to keep his blond curls away. He had shockingly blue eyes, and his very appearance often was enough of a deterrent when other bikers wanted to cause fights in the Torpedo Ink Roadhouse, a bar the club owned and operated.

"We can't interrogate Billows until we know where those keys are kept. Breaking into the underground rooms hasn't been a viable solution. Too many risks. We need the keys. Hell, we don't even know where the entrance is. Maestro, do you believe you can get them from her?"

Maestro had no doubt that, given time, he would be able to search for the keys and make a copy when he found them. Zelie would have to trust him enough to allow him to roam freely in her studio apartment. They'd already searched her living space multiple times when she was out but hadn't found the keys to the rooms below the club.

"I told you, give me the time and I'll get everything we need from her. She's extremely susceptible to me." He didn't add that he was also susceptible to her, but somehow, he must have given it away.

Steele gave him a hard look. "You need me to send Keys in?"

Maestro allowed himself to appear a little disconcerted. "Why would you do that?"

"You reacted to her. You've never reacted to any woman."

"She's a fuckin' mark, Steele. For all we know, she could be the brains behind this operation. I'd be shocked, but she's smart enough. She's into their books. I don't see how she could see their books every day for all these years and not know what's going on. Maybe not the trafficking, but she knows this owner is dirty. She actually told me that the first time she ever did the books for Billows she kept him out of prison, and she was only sixteen."

There was silence for a moment. Czar shook his head. "Sixteen years old and she's cooking the books for one of the worst criminals we've come across."

"I think she's a genius when it comes to numbers and patterns," Maestro admitted. "How else could she manage those books at such a young age?"

Steele sighed. "That's one more strike against her, Maestro. She's intelligent enough to keep Billows safe from IRS scrutiny, and she's worked for him for at least seven years. It seems a little far-fetched that she doesn't know."

"I disagree, Steele," Alena objected. "She's looking at numbers. She doesn't necessarily know where the money is coming from."

"There has to be some accounting." Kir "Master" Vasiliev was their treasurer and a genius with numbers and making money. Code would steal it from the targets they chose to go after, and Master invested it, making them even more money. He was tall with dark hair and ripped the way most of them were. He'd recently married Ambrie, and that, Maestro had to admit, had turned Master's life around. "You don't just have numbers without some explanation."

"Before Billows has her come in to work on the books," Lana "Widow" Popov backed up Alena, "it would be easy enough for him to make shit up."

Lana was gorgeous; there was no getting around her looks. Tall, with a curvy body and shiny black hair like a raven's wing, she had a way of walking and talking that was pure seduction. She was tougher than Alena, although the same age. Her birth brother, Kasimir "Preacher" Popov, was older than she was and extremely protective of her, not that Lana ever wanted any of his protection.

Czar sighed and swept a hand through his hair. "There are good arguments for both sides. Maestro, you're the one who will have to put in the work and be with this woman day and night. You're the one setting her up. There's always a danger in that. If there's anyone in this room who understands the damage betrayal can do, it's you. No matter how many times you tried to save the girls in that school, it was impossible. That took its toll on you as well. I don't want you taking this assignment if it will make things worse for you."

Maestro shrugged. "I don't feel I'm in jeopardy in any way."

He honestly didn't know if that was the truth. He knew it would have been true in any other circumstance, with any other woman. He believed they needed to find where the kidnapped women and children were being taken. He wanted to find out how to get to them before they were sold if Billows was holding prisoners. He absolutely believed in what they were doing.

He'd been imprisoned for years, from the time he was a child, at the mercy of sadistic pedophiles. He knew what the life of a sex slave would be. He'd seen it. Lived it. The purpose of Torpedo Ink was to eliminate as much trafficking as they could. They found pedophiles, took back their victims, returned them to families or took them in if they had nowhere to go. The pedophiles were eliminated, sometimes in not-so-nice ways.

Maestro wasn't a man to take an interest in outsiders, particularly women. He partied hard at times but walked away quickly from any entanglements. He didn't feel . That was the bottom line. He'd never met a woman who got under his skin—until Azelie.

Shadowing Zelie these past few weeks, watching her closely, hearing her soft laughter as she teased the merry widows and their gentlemen friends, gutted him. She had slipped into his veins, the fire burning slow until he found himself thinking about her night and day. That was unlike him, and anything out of the ordinary raised an alarm. He didn't trust emotions—not his anyway, not when it came to women.

Maestro gave the president of Torpedo Ink a look of complete confidence. He felt confident in his ability to manipulate the situation. Zelie was younger than him by a good ten years. He was very experienced when it came to women. She had no experience when it came to men. A man like Maestro could chew her up and spit her out.

When he thought too much about this job, a tiny nagging emotion he couldn't identify but didn't like surfaced. Was it shame? He knew betrayal. He had lived a lifetime of betrayal. Women weren't to be counted on. Neither were most men. He told himself this woman wasn't any different from the ones who had betrayed him over and over. She deserved whatever happened working for a slime bag like Alan Billows. He knew she was intelligent. He couldn't get sucked into feeling sympathy for her because she'd lost her family in much the same way he'd lost his and the others in Torpedo Ink had lost theirs.

Young women and children were being ripped from their homes, trained as sex slaves and sold to the highest bidder. Torpedo Ink had to find them. Maestro believed that. It was the vow they'd taken together. Yeah, they had a code they lived by, but that code was between the club members. Anyone involved in trafficking of any kind was fair game.

Czar pinned Maestro with his piercing gaze. "You're willing to see this through."

"No problem." He did his best to sound casual when that weird emotion nagged at him. "I'm looking forward to it." That was the truth. He wanted a chance to spend time with Zelie. Really get to know her in every sense of the word. "I haven't been around a true submissive in years. I'm sure that's the only reason my body responded to her the way it did. It gave me a rush like I haven't experienced since I was a kid." He didn't think she was submissive, more a woman who needed to care for her man, to please him. That was even more intriguing to him.

Steele and Keys exchanged a long look. Maestro noted both expressions held apprehension. Even alarm. The others knew him, but not like Keys or Steele. Keys and Maestro guarded Steele and his family, which often meant they stayed in his home and interacted with him on a regular basis.

"Explain, please," Fatei "Rock" said.

Maestro exchanged a look with Savage. Savage knew exactly what he was talking about. "I can spot a submissive a mile away, even if the woman isn't aware she is one. In Zelie's case, she must know she's a pleaser. A nurturer. She's too intelligent not to recognize those traits in herself. She doesn't think of herself as submissive, and she doesn't mind pleasing the people she loves or even likes."

"Would it follow that if she liked Alan Billows, she would please him by assisting him with his trafficking ring?" Fatei asked.

"Not necessarily," Savage denied. "A submissive isn't necessarily passive or docile. Oftentimes they are very intelligent and don't go along with just anyone. They might avoid confrontation, but they don't give their submission easily."

Maestro continued the explanation when he read confusion on Fatei's face. "A submissive doesn't just turn over their trust to anyone. One has to work at earning it."

"So, what you're saying is you would get this woman to fall in love with you?" Fatei asked.

"Not necessarily," Savage denied. "It's possible for a submissive to spend time with a dominant, give him her trust, but neither falls in love. They can have a long-distance relationship where they meet up every month or two and both are satisfied because their needs are being met."

"A sexual relationship only?" Fatei pressed.

"For the most part," Maestro agreed. Instinctively, he knew Azelie would never turn over her trust to any man without being in love with him. He felt it prudent not to mention that.

"In your school, with all the training they put you through, you must have seen submissive girls," Savage said.

It was Gavriil who answered. "Our school wasn't exactly the same as the one you attended, Savage. There was training in sex, admittedly all kinds of sex, but it was simply part of the curriculum and not the central theme. We weren't subjected to pedophiles on a daily basis, female or male. We had instructors who enjoyed inflicting pain, but it wasn't necessarily sexual. We weren't exposed to submissives long enough to learn about them or why they are the way they are."

Savage again answered. "It's rare to find a true submissive, one willing to give her trust to you more than sexually. It's even rarer to find someone truly competitive and have that woman give you her complete trust. If she falls in love with you and you're like I am, you know you have gold. The treasure. You do whatever it takes to keep her and give the best of you in return."

Maestro wouldn't have revealed so much information to everyone, but then he tended to keep his mouth shut most of the time. He came alive when he played his music or when he worked with wood. Sometimes, when he was around Czar and Blythe's children, he found a way to be much more forthcoming, but it was never with information he felt was personal.

He had no trouble sharing his opinion and did so often. He just felt like there was no place for emotions in discussions. When others felt passionate about subjects, he knew he wasn't going to change their mind—so what was the point of expressing his opinion?

"Do you believe Azelie would be open to having a sexual relationship without any commitment on your part?" Lana asked.

Maestro's heart dropped. That was the last question he wanted to answer. The policy had always been the members of Torpedo Ink didn't lie to one another. They didn't use their gifts on one another, only for one another.

Silence stretched out and tension rose. Maestro finally sighed and shook his head. "I doubt that she's capable of a relationship only involving sex. I don't know for certain; that's just a gut feeling. I only just made contact with her."

"When are you seeing her again?" There was concern in Czar's voice.

"Tomorrow night. I've made reservations for dinner at a romantic restaurant with a view of the Bay. It wasn't easy to get that reservation. I had to throw quite a bit of money their way to be first in line for a cancellation. Fortunately, one came up and I was able to get us in."

"Do you know what kinds of food she eats?" Alena asked. "Is she vegetarian?"

Code answered. "No, she does enjoy fish, and the restaurant is renowned for its fish menu. I gave Maestro all her preferences."

"We went over the most romantic restaurants with the best menus that she might enjoy," Keys added. "We didn't leave anything to chance."

"Although I almost blew it," Maestro admitted. "I asked her out and told her what I'd like her to wear and realized after that if she wasn't spending money on extras, she wouldn't have a cocktail dress and shoes for the occasion. That would just give her an excuse to get out of going to dinner with me. I'm certain she's looking for one."

"How did you handle the problem?" Fatei asked.

"Sent her an apology and bought a dress and shoes and asked Ice to provide jewelry. The dress will look killer on her. Very feminine, silver, clingy, but good taste. She'll look sexy in it, but I'm hoping she won't feel on display."

Lana's eyebrow shot up. "You aren't testing her right off the bat?"

"Everything is a test with a submissive, Lana," Maestro said. "If she chooses to wear the dress and heels for me, she's passed the test. She doesn't dress this way as a rule. In fact, she covers up her figure. Asking her to wear the dress and heels is going to take her out of her comfort zone. If she wears them for me and doesn't cancel, I think I have a very good chance with her. She's a pleaser. She should want to do the things I ask because she wants to make me happy. That's how it works."

"It's bullshit," Alena protested.

"It has to be done if we want the information," Czar said. "I don't think any of us like it, but that doesn't mean we aren't going to do it. We've had to do much worse things in order to survive or to take back women and children."

"That's true," Alena agreed, "but I thought the point of moving here and putting down roots was to learn to be better people. How does destroying this young woman make us better, Czar? Do we have the right to decide, before we know whether or not she's involved, to potentially destroy her? We know she lost her family and how. We know she was shot several times. After what we put Anya through with an interrogation, and Seychelle, not accepting her the way we should have, haven't we learned anything?"

"Babe," Maestro said gently. "You know we need this. I'll do my best to handle her with kid gloves."

Alena shook her head and looked down at the table. "You have strong opinions when it comes to what a woman's place should be. You're like Savage when it comes to meting out punishment. Forgive me for being blunt, Maestro, but your past with women is horrific. I wouldn't want to believe that you might take out your very justified anger on a woman who did nothing to any of us."

There was silence again. Alena continued to stare at the gleaming oak that made up the top of the table.

"Honey, look at me." Maestro's voice was velvet soft, but compelling.

Reluctantly, Alena's gaze met his. She looked miserable, and he could see the guilt in her eyes over her all-too-real fear.

"I swear to you, I'll do my best to handle this situation right. I'm not looking to hurt anyone, especially this woman."

Alena swallowed and nodded.

"That's it, then," Czar said. "If you need any help, let us know."

"If I get in with her, we'll need a club to go to, one we can control," Maestro said.

"I'm working on that," Code assured him.

Maestro stayed for a short period of time visiting with the others before he walked out. He was already packed to make the ride back to San Francisco. Keys would be going with him. They would have backup from Mechanic and Transporter. Eventually, when needed, the others would come.

Keys was already outside, leaning against the chain-link fence, regarding him with exasperation. "Cut the crap, Maestro. I've been on this mission with you for the last few weeks studying this woman. We both know she's more than a mark for you. If you do this, you're going to lose her, and you can't afford to do that."

"We don't know if she's involved or not."

"We've watched her for three straight weeks helping little kids and old people nonstop. She's generous and caring. You really think she's involved in human trafficking? And why is she taking college classes the way she is? She'd have money if she was involved, wouldn't she? She's barely getting by, even writing her books," Keys pointed out.

"Maybe. And maybe she's smart enough to hide her money. I'm telling you, just talking to her, she's far more intelligent than Alan Billows," Maestro said. He rubbed his jaw with the pad of his thumb. "She's scary smart. Soft and sweet and scary smart."

"Listen to you. I've never heard you like this. Or seen you like this over a woman. You can't blow this, Maestro. You know how it is for us. Women just don't come along for the kinds of people we are."

"I'm not about to get led around by my dick like Czar and Player and, hell, even Savage," Maestro declared. "I know women can't be trusted. I'm not going to be the mark here."

"Is that what you think?" Keys asked. "You need to really think about this before you take it any further."

Maestro sighed. "I did think about it. We both separately went into the coffee shop several times. She didn't react when you went in. She nearly dropped her coffee and couldn't stop looking every time I went in. At no time did she show interest in any other man. It's me or it's no one, Keys. It's my job because she reacts to me. And as much as I don't want to admit it, I wouldn't want you or anyone else to seduce her. I don't think I could take it, and that's me being real."

"Maestro, she told you very personal details about the night her family was murdered. Those are things she wouldn't have told to someone else. You know that. You can't seduce her, betray her and then think you can have the kind of relationship you need with her after it's all over. If you want this woman, you're going to have to come clean with Czar and Steele and tell them the truth."

Maestro pushed off the fence. "What the fuck is the truth, Keys? That I expect a fairy tale? I think I'm getting a happy ever after? I don't believe it for a minute. I'll do the job, and the only way I can do it is to go all in."

"Czar has the happy ever after," Keys pointed out.

"I'm not Czar." Maestro stayed silent, letting the ice in his veins make its way to his heart. He couldn't afford to think too much about the sound of Zelie's voice when she told him about her family being murdered. He had glaciers surrounding his heart. It had to stay that way while he worked. "Tell me what you would do, Keys. Women and children are being trafficked. No one's looking for them. Someone has to stop these people. This is our first real lead. We don't know whether she's part of the pipeline or not, but we know her boss is."

"You saw her. You heard her," Keys persisted.

"Yeah, I did," Maestro admitted, trying not to sound as bitter as he felt. The taste of blood was in his mouth. He felt the sharp blade of the knife as it retreated from his body. The hot lash of the whip as it tore strips of skin from his back. The burn of shame and humiliation for once again trusting a female. Betrayal tasted bitter.