Page 8 of Desperate Victory

“I know people we can talk to, people who are familiar with the business in that part of the world. I can also get you in to talk to them. We might get a lot more there. They may not be as amenable to talking as others, but I trust you can persuade them.”

I frowned. “How?”

“Every single time I toured in Eastern Europe, it was always very popular. We only ever played in two cities, so the audience came to me.”

“Why only two?” I swore she was talking around the point, making light of something that was far more serious.

“Because,” she said, then glanced back as Ezra reappeared with our coffees. “Yay! Coffee time.”

I let her have the distraction as Ezra handed over our coffees before he took a seat on the other sofa. “What are we discussing?”

“Europe,” she said. “And why did I only ever perform in two cities when we went there—well in Eastern Europe.” At least she didn’t try to downplay it.

“The reason was…?”

“The company always had to hire me bodyguards when I was there.” She blew out a breath. “Uncle Fuckbucket would pay for it, particularly after the first time there was a kidnapping attempt.”

The first time?

Ezra snapped forward. “The first time? That means there was a second.”

“The first one was the only real close call, after that I had bodyguards. But my performances brought in all types and I was very popular in some circles.” She made a face. “I didn’t really think about the audience that much, we just went, I performed, and we left…”

“Em—are you telling us that traffickers actually came to your shows and tried to acquire you?” The fact Ezra could deliver the line so coolly earned him points.

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“I can’t say they were definitively traffickers,” she said before taking a sip of her coffee. “Some were just rich, fat men who wanted a young girl.”

Anger lit a tempest in me.

“I recognized it, and I did everything I could to avoid it. So, yes, when I went, I had big burly bodyguards, often two at a time, to keep my ‘fans’ at bay and so no one had to worry about me going missing.”

Because her uncle was already a pedophile who wanted to claim ownership of her. I wish we could resurrect that piece of shit just so we could kill him. Again.

“Anyway, I’m not worried about that this time. Because I’m never alone and the guys would never let anything happen to me. Nor would you.” She motioned to the two of us. “I also know a lot more about fighting, using a knife, and shooting a gun. I’m not an easy target anymore.”

Anymore.

“Ivy…”

“I love you too,” she murmured. No, she wasn’t making light of her history or her experiences. “Lainey needs this. She needs help to find Andrea. If she’s in Eastern Europe, and ‘sold,’ then we need these people. People who can point us in the right directions. Of all of us, I can do this. I can bring them to the table…”

I fucking hated that she was right.

“How the hell are you convincing Liam and the others to even consider this?” Ezra demanded.

“Well, I’m going to let Milo talk to them first.”

Right…

The door locks tumbled and I rose, half-aware of Ezra standing too. A moment later, the door opened to reveal Lainey and I was able to take a deeper breath. She was here and she was safe.

Trusting her to look after herself was one thing. Setting my own eyes on her was another. Her troubled gaze lightened as she met mine then she smiled at me before glancing at Ezra and then Ivy.

All at once, Mayhem’s smile vanished. “Em… what’s wrong?”

I shot a look over my shoulder. Ivy had gone painfully pale and her hand shook, but she wasn’t looking at any of us.