“They deal in the black market,” Jay tells me. I’m staring at camera footage of the tattooed man from the video—the one that brought a little girl with a gunshot wound into Dr. Garrison’s shoddy hospital. “Organ traffickers, to be specific.”
“Who is ‘they’?” I ask, carefully watching the man carry the injured child out of the hospital, gently set her in the backseat of a red Camaro, and then speed off. Whether he didn’t care to avoid the one camera on the front of the building, or wasn’t aware of it, doesn’t actually matter. I got his license plate number.
Jay pulls up a photo. It’s of the tattooed man with three other men. Based on their body language, they appear very comfortable with each other.
“Them. They call themselves the Basilisk Brotherhood. Widely known in the black market for trading in human organs. Ryker, Daire, Kace, and Slade. No one knows their real last names.”
I close my eyes, reining in my temper. I have little control over it these days.
“Before you get growly and go on a killing spree, Tony the Tiger, there’s been some talk that they are not actually as bad as they’re making themselves out to be.”
I shoot Jay a look, but he ignores me. I’m scarier than Tony the Tiger, and he knows it.
“Why do you say that?”
“Just some comments on forums that I’ve come across on a few deep websites,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know what it is, but I have a feeling those rumors are true.”
We’ll see.
“Regardless, they would have knowledge on the comings and goings of the skin trade,” I surmise.
Jay meets my heavy stare, a mutual agreement passing between us silently.
If Addie is traded or auctioned off, they might be able to track it, which means that I need to have a chat with the Basilisk Brotherhood.
“Give me a second, and I’ll get in contact with them,” I say, straightening and motioning for Jay to move aside. He grumbles something about this being his computer, but I don’t pay him any mind.
Jay’s great at what he does—amazing, even. But I’m better.
I sit down and open up several programs. The first one is a software with facial recognition. It provides a hit on every single camera their face has appeared on. I’m almost impressed when very few pop up.
Ryker’s face is the most popular—the same large, angry-looking man that brought in the little girl to the doctor. Unlike the grainy footage from the hospital, this camera catches a clear image of him.
He’s interesting-looking, with sharp features, long hair that seems to always be tied up, pale gray-green eyes, light stubble, and a nose piercing. Type of face women would fall to their knees for.
The other three certainly aren’t hurting for pussy either, though they’re all incredibly different from each other. Definitely not real brothers, though I’m sure they act like it.
“You’ll get along with them great,” Jay says over my shoulder. “You all are in a business where being obscure is key, yet each one of you stands out like lollipops among moldy bread. Very lickable lollipops, too.”
Yeah, whatever. I didn’t ask to be beautiful.
I ignore him and narrow down my search to the most recent location they were spotted last. Portland, Oregon. Massive city and a great place to hide.
Also, a prime location for human trafficking. Prostitution runs rampant there—one of the most blatant and in-your-face forms of trafficking there is. The police spend more time arresting the girls for their crimes rather than trying to save them.
‘Merica.
In the video, it appears as if they’re doing some type of exchange. Could be drugs, but something like cocaine or heroin is child’s play when you’re
dealing with human organs. Call it intuition, but none of them give off the vibe of a drug addict.
I sift through different programs until I finally get a hit on a residential house’s Nest camera from two weeks ago. The red Camaro pulls into the driveway, and the four men pour out of the car.
An older woman steps out of the front door and waves her hand animatedly. The Nest picks up audio, so when her voice comes through, it’s clear that whoever owns this house is either family or like family.
She’s loud and boisterous as she greets them, and the men gravitate towards her like little boys would their grandma.
“I’ll never get over how grown-up you boys are!” she exclaims, first hugging Ryker, and then the other three.
“’Sup, Mama T,” Daire says, grinning at her. He slings an arm around the woman and ruffles her short silver hair with the other hand. Swatting at him, she berates him lovingly as they disappear into the house, their voices quickly fading.
Clicking off the program, I open up a browser and search the quickest route back to Portland. Seems I’m going to be spending a lot of time there.
“You’re going to her house?’
I turn my head, spotting Jay from the corner of my eye, a disapproving look on his face.
“Where else would I go?”
“You’re going to piss them off.”
“I’m not going to hurt her,” I scowl.
“Do you think that will matter to them? Your presence will be threatening enough.”
I swivel my chair completely around, cocking my brow as I lean back and cross my arms.
“Do I look fucking scared?”
He tips his head back and sighs dramatically. “We know you’re a bad bitch, Zade. That’s not the point.” I reach out and punch his thigh in response to being called a bad bitch, earning me a groaned ow.
“No, the point is that this is my quickest option. I will give them a very good reason to come to me, and I will ensure we come to a mutually beneficial agreement. I don’t have time to learn the ins and outs of transporting humans. It’s complicated as fuck, and my primary focus the
past several years has been locating the rings once the girls have already been moved. Addie can be traded any day if she hasn’t been already, so I need to cover my bases. While I try to find where she’s being held, I need someone that understands the business to keep an eye out for if or when she’s transported.”
Jay sighs, sensing that I’m going to do what I want anyway. “Fine. Just don’t be a dick to her.”
I flash a grin. “Don’t worry. The ladies love me.”
 |
“Get out of my house right now, you fucker!” Teresa, otherwise known as Mama T, yells, pointing a finger at me. “Do you think you can just waltz into my house? Who do you think you are?”
I lean back into the couch, wiggling my butt until I’m comfortable.
“A very desperate man, Teresa Baker,” I say, looking over the house casually. She has a very cozy home, and everything has its place.
Cream walls with matching couches, maroon flower pictures spaced out perfectly, matching wooden furniture, the brown surfaces gleaming as if she dusted them not two seconds ago, and a white birdcage hanging in the corner, a little Tweety chirping away.
Does she have a Sylvester, too?
She scoffs, “What the hell does that have to do with me?”
“You know some men who I need to have a chat with. Does Ryker sound familiar? Slade, Daire or Kace, even?”
Her face visibly pales, and her thin red lips part as she scrambles for a response.
Too slow, Mama T.
“Call them. Bring them here. That’s all I want.”
She huffs out an amused laugh. “You know they’re going to kill you, right?”
“Now why would they do that? We’re having a lovely time.”
She shoots me a look, sits down in her chair, and grabs the phone off the receiver. She’s probably one out of fifteen people in the world who still
have a landline.
Her green eyes spear me like sharpened knives as she slaps the phone to her ear. I smile wide at her in return, though I fear it came out a tad feral.
“Get over here, now. Bring your brothers,” she says after someone picks up, glancing over at me with irritation.
“No, I’m not hurt,” she assures quickly. “There’s a man here to see you four.”
He must agree because she hangs up the phone without another word. Still shooting me the evil eye, she sets the phone down a tad aggressively, and an uncomfortable silence descends.
Nothing about Mama T is typical, nor is she shy as she meets my stare head-on. Despite being in her fifties, she’s got character—tattoos on her neck, a Monroe piercing, a nose ring, and dark red lipstick.
“My girl was kidnapped,” I tell her, hoping to appease some of her anger.
Honestly, I have no interest in harming an old lady. I hate that I’m making her uncomfortable, but it’s a necessary means to get what I need. I’d rather she feels relaxed in my presence—as much as she’s capable of when a six-foot-six man with scars all over his body walks into your home.
She stares at me blankly, waiting for me to continue. “She was taken by some very bad and powerful people. Could be anywhere in the world at this point. Your boys happen to have a refined skill in what I need to possibly track her down.”
She leans her elbows on her spread knees, and it feels like she’s looking past my flesh and into my soul. I stay still. People seeing me for who I am has never bothered me.
“You’re a powerful, bad man.”
I shrug. “And also, someone with very little time to waste. I’ve got a firm hold on my manhood, and I can admit when I need help.”
She raises her thin brows and gives me a look that suggests at least you have that going for you.
I’d like to think I’m pretty, too, but I’ll let it slide.
“What makes you think my boys will help you? Is my life your bargaining chip?”
“Of course not,” I chirp, much like the bird chattering in the cage. “Only a weaker man would hurt an innocent woman to get what they want.”
She cocks a brow, unimpressed. I can’t help but smile at that.
“Like you said, I’m a powerful, bad man. I have connections and capabilities of my own. Whatever they need, I can do, once my girl is safe and sound.”
She nods her head, though she doesn’t look convinced. I’m not worried about what they will ask of me. What I don’t know, I can learn. When it comes time to collect, Addie will be by my side, and I’ll have all the time in the world to get them whatever they need.
“Well, I don’t approve of your methods, but I was married once and would’ve killed to have even a fraction of the love you have for your lady friend.”
“Come on, there’s time. You could still find your one and only.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m too old for that shit. I have my boys, and that’s enough. Just next time, would ya knock? You almost gave me a goddamn heart attack.”
“I’m sorry, Teresa,” I say genuinely, my hand over my heart. It only earns me another eye roll.
“Call me Mama T.”
I grin, pleased that I’ve been accepted. I told Jay—the ladies love me.
|
If the Basilisk Brotherhood didn’t respect Teresa, they would’ve kicked the door down to get to me. Instead, they rush inside, the four of them nearly tripping on each other to get in.
Teresa is already waiting at the door, hands raised in a calming gesture. “Now, calm down, boys. He’s not here to hurt me.”
Slade grips her by her arms and spins her around, assuming to check for injuries. She twists out of his grip and swats at him.
“Stop it, I’m fine. I can take care of my damn self.”
Ryker’s eyes immediately find mine, his pursuit never pausing for even a moment. He rushes toward me, but before he can make it another step, Teresa grabs him by the arm.
His head whips around to her in shock, and she glares at him.
“Are ya fucking deaf, or am I a mute now? What did I say? He ain’t here to hurt me, so calm down.”
Ryker faces me again, a mixture of anger and bewilderment on his face.
I take a bite of my chocolate chip cookie and give him a close-lipped smile while I chew.
These cookies are fucking delicious.
“Who the fuck are you?” Ryker barks while the other three flank him. Chests puffed, chins notched high, and hands ready to pull out their firearms.
Teresa rolls her eyes and mutters beneath her breath, storming out from behind them to sit in her chair with an irritated huff.
Boys will be boys.
Slowly, I stand, wiping the crumbs from my hands on my jeans. “Z,” is my only response and Ryker’s brow quirks.
“Z,” he echoes dryly as if he doesn’t believe me. “That’s what I said.”
“Like the Z?” Daire clarifies. Two tiny diamond dermals are pierced above a thick black brow, glinting as he arches it on his forehead.
“Yes,” I say. Introductions are so tedious when very few have actually seen my face. Anyone could claim to be me, but all of them would fail when it came time to prove it.
Slade snorts, rolling his dark eyes, which make an interesting contrast to the waves of dirty blond hair falling into them.
The only one who doesn’t have much to say is Kace, who stands back and observes me closely. If I were a lesser man, it’d make me uncomfortable.
“Let’s say I give a shit that you’re Z—why are you here and in Teresa’s house?”
“Well, to get to you, of course. Excuse my impolite methods, however, time is of the essence,” I answer, flashing a grin. Ryker snarls in response.
Touchy.
“Does Dr. Garrison ring any bells?”
A collective silence ensues for a few moments, and then Daire chuckles. “That was you, wasn’t it? That set him and his place on fire?”
“Sure was. I happened across some intriguing footage with Ryker’s face on it. Intriguing enough for me to investigate, and it’s like Jesus himself
handed me a gift. Word on the street is that you’re all very particular… tradesmen. And I have a current need for that.”
Ryker glances at Teresa, who’s staring up at us with complete boredom on her face.
Sensing Ryker’s need for secrecy, she waves her hand. “Leave. It’s my nap time.”
He glances at me before walking to an end table next to Teresa’s chair and snatching a crumpled receipt and pen. She grumbles when he starts scribbling on it but doesn’t stop him.
Straightening, he hands the slip of paper to me. “You caught us in the middle of something. Meet us at this address in four hours. Don’t be late. Now get out.”
I arch a brow when I spot hemorrhoid cream on the receipt but quickly decide it’s not my business what’s growing on Teresa’s ass.
“I’ll be early,” I say. “Bye, Mama T.”
“Good luck,” she calls. I wave a hand in acknowledgment before opening and shutting the front door behind me.
I don’t need luck, just the help of four men, who are probably going to be enough pains in my ass that I’ll need the hemorrhoid cream next.
