6. six

Having helped Isabella Marcano with her shelter for victims of sex trafficking for several years now, I am no stranger to hearing about the things some of those women and children have endured. But this frail, battered woman curled up in my arms is the first time that I have ever actually seen it.

Felt it.

Her whole body trembles against me like a cornered animal as she alternates between leaning into my comforting touch and waiting for me to take advantage of her—like who knows how many men did while she was tied to that bed.

"Please—"

"Shhh." I lightly stroke her hair in an attempt to comfort her. "I have no intention of hurting you. You're safe now."

Her lids quiver and her eyes open fully for the first time. They lock on mine as she groans painfully, "Please just kill me."

"Those men may have led you to the slaughter, little lamb," I pull her tighter to me and brush the hair from her face, "but this isn't where you die."

She opens her mouth, and I expect her to protest, but nothing passes over her lips apart from a sputtered breath. Her eyelids begin to droop as though they are too heavy for her to keep open. I stare deeply into the caramel eyes peeking through her fluttering lids, hoping she can see that she is safe with me.

I don't know why...

No one has ever been safe with me.

Fighting against her body's need for sleep momentarily, she finally allows it to take her. As her eyes close, she relaxes, and her head falls against my chest.

"Where to?" Diego keeps his voice light so as to not startle the woman sleeping in my lap.

I meet his gaze in the rearview mirror and hesitate as I think about what to do with her. We should take her to Isabella's shelter. They have the medical facilities to treat her, and they are equipped to deal with what she has faced. It would be for the best, yet when I open my mouth those aren't the words that come out. "My place. For now. The one above the warehouse in Los Cangrejos."

Carefully fishing my phone from my pocket, ensuring I don't jostle the little lamb sleeping against me, I look at the time before sending a text.

Still no Jorge or Guillermo. We are still looking.

ALEJANDRO

Any problems?

Nothing I can't handle, jefe.

I generally don't keep secrets from Alejandro, but this current situation doesn't exactly seem like something he needs to be made aware of. She's insignificant to our world—just some girl who got caught up with the wrong men.

No reason to make him think I went soft all of a sudden.

Keep me posted. And watch your ass, something isn't right with all of this.

Always.

My eyes flick between the battered face against my chest and the road signs on the side of the road, and I figure it's best to tend to another matter.

Need help at the LC warehouse in an hour. But I need you to bring a woman with you.

DOC

A woman?

Find a nurse or another doctor to bring with you, but it needs to be a woman.

I'll be damned if another man is going to lay a hand on her while she's this fucking fragile.

Now isn't the time to think about your license. That ship has sailed.

Find someone.

They'll keep quiet, I'll make sure of it.

One hour.

One hour.

I let out a loud sigh and toss my phone onto the backseat beside me. Excluding the trembling whimpers coming from her in her sleep, it's one of the last sounds on our drive back to the warehouse.

While his mouth is silent, Diego's eyes speak volumes as they repeatedly glance back at me in the rearview mirror. My current behavior and demeanor are likely as big a shock to him as they are to me.

This isn't me.

As we ride through the city, I try to determine why my gut is telling me to take care of this woman. While stumbling upon bound sex slaves left for dead isn't exactly a day-to-day occurrence for me, bringing them home would never be my first choice. My nature would be more to cut them loose to fend for themselves or to give them what this one is asking for.

I bullet to the temple to ease their pain.

Yet, here I am, pulling up to my home with a sheet-clad woman nuzzled against my chest, wanting nothing more than to pull her closer as she whimpers and cries in her sleep.

"Are you expecting company?" Diego questions as he reaches for his gun on the front passenger seat upon seeing the two unfamiliar cars parked at the rear entry of the warehouse.

"Relax," I calm him. "It's Doc."

"And the other?" He continues to reach for his weapon.

"A female doctor. So she's comfortable," I drop my eyes to the still-sleeping woman.

I catch Diego's eyes in the rearview as he's pulling to a stop.

"Not a word." I stop him before he has a chance to question me and whatever the fuck it is I'm doing. Like the good soldier he is, not a peep comes from him as he slips the car into park and climbs from it.