Disruptor (13 page)

So, yeah, it would have been easier for him
to answer if she’d lift her knee, but she didn’t want to hear his
annoying voice. The frantic back and forth of his eyeballs was
answer enough.

“Where do Russian girls go around here if
they need help and want to avoid the Lincoln Heights guys? Can you
tell me that?”

He nodded. Dani lifted her knee just enough
for him to speak. “Guy down in Belmont,” he wheezed. “Goes by DJ
Housecat. Him and the Russians, they can’t stand each other. He
might put the girls to work if they’re willing, but he don’t
mistreat them.” He coughed and she moved her knee out of his way.
“Belmont’s pretty much his.”

“Where in Belmont can I find him?” The
Belmont neighborhood sat west of Lincoln Heights.

“Place called Dirty South. And that is all I
know, I swear.”

Dani tucked a twenty into the guy’s pocket.
“Feel free to tell your buddy that you were such a good boy,
I
paid
you
.” She stood and headed out of the
alley.

“You’re a real hardass, you know that?”

“No,” she called over her shoulder. “I’m a
real badass.”

Cheesy bravado, but still, it made her feel
slightly better after a day of failure. Not that she especially
minded beating up jerks for information, but she couldn’t help
wondering something. Nobody had wanted to talk to Dani – would they
talk to the Cabrini Ghost? That question, and all the questions it
spawned, needed pondering before she tried anything different. She
wasn’t too keen on waltzing into Belmont without knowing anything
about this DJ Housecat guy and his operation. Kevin might help her
with researching that, but she wasn’t up to facing him again
yet.

She found a rooftop to watch the sun sink
into the lake. Kevin’s cologne teased from his black jacket that
she’d worn again without asking permission. The balaclava was still
stuffed in a pocket. At the first sound of a siren after full dark,
she took out the phone he’d given her and checked the hashtag.
Mostly nothing, until she refreshed and came across tweets
timestamped only seconds ago. Several blocks away from the sirens,
somebody claimed a group of men were menacing two young girls.

It might be nothing. They might get home safe
and sound without any help.

Or they might not.

Energy thrummed through her body. Something
pushed at her from the inside, like a gale force wind made of
guilt. A young girl’s voice, screaming for help, begging not to be
abandoned, echoed in Dani’s head. Would that voice ever stop? Was
there anything Dani could do to earn more than just a few hours of
peaceful silence? Right now, a few hours of peace sounded like a
better deal than none at all.

Dani withdrew the balaclava and pulled it
over her head. She didn’t like the idea of being called a ghost,
but she’d rather be the one doing the haunting than be the
haunted.

***

Someone else tipped off the police about the
dead girl’s body. Kevin had to read the story twice before the
words made sense. He hadn’t slept all night and his eyes were
beyond tired. The cops had no ID on the girl, no clues about who
killed her or why. Reading between the lines, they didn’t seem to
be on fire to solve the case, either. Just another body dumped in
the bad part of town. Dani was out searching for the other girls.
He’d given her another phone and some cash to take along with the
sketches.

Copies of those sketches stared back at him
from where he’d affixed them to an easel in the room that served as
his art studio. All were young and pretty with Eastern European
features. The best thing to do would be tip the police, with these
sketches and one of the man Dani suspected of being a killer,
though strangely she hadn’t wanted a sketch of him. Figuring out
how to do that and truly stay anonymous was the tricky part. Dani
wasn’t interested, though. Whatever it was that drove her to take
on over a dozen criminals by herself, to jump from a rooftop to do
it, had sent her into the streets to deal with this herself. And by
not turning her in, he was helping her. From the moment he’d
offered her aid, he’d become an accomplice to any crimes she
committed.

He was an accessory to murder.

Kevin ran from the room. He barely made it to
the large bathroom in the master bedroom in time. It seemed like
every meal he’d ever eaten had come back to haunt him. Head hanging
in the toilet bowl, he vomited until he had nothing left. He
dragged himself up to the sink and splashed water on his face then
brushed his teeth. The whole time, he avoided meeting his own gaze
in the mirror.

She was a killer, and unstable.

She’d been brutalized, and still suffered
from trauma.

She’d torn through that house full of
traffickers like an avenging angel of death. How many more might
she kill just to find those other three girls and keep them
safe?

How did she jump from the rooftop of one
building to the fire escape of another?

She’d saved his life the night he was
attacked, and she’d fought those traffickers to give the girls time
to escape.

But she’d still killed. What the hell had he
been thinking, offering her sanctuary in his own home, help with a
new identity? Dani was a killer. The smart thing to do would be to
call the cops and have her arrested.

But would that be the right thing? It was
true that she showed no remorse over killing some of the
traffickers, but she didn’t seem particularly bloodthirsty
otherwise. That thought was some kind of pretzel logic or something
on his part, as if he was desperately trying to find some reason to
not pick up the phone and call the police. He didn’t want to turn
her in. Hell, as far as he knew, the cops weren’t even looking for
her. The news said it was considered a gangland dispute between
rival factions. She could, in theory, leave town with her new
identity and no one else would ever know what she’d done.

The biggest moral quandary Kevin had faced up
until this point was whether or not to tell Brandon he’d once
broken the “hands off the baby sisters of friends” rule, with
Brandon’s sister. He’d punked out and failed that test, too, never
admitting it. All the drinking and partying and women (who weren’t
his best friend’s sister) – that was child’s play compared to this.
This wasn’t seeing a friend shoplift and laughing about it, this
wasn’t taking his older brother’s car for a joyride when he was
fourteen, it wasn’t any of the dumb, petty things he’d seen and
done during his entire dumb, petty existence.

This was homicide. Revenge, maybe,
indirectly, but not justice. So the question Kevin had to ask
himself now was, could he continue to help Dani, or did he need to
pick up the phone and make the call that would likely send her to
prison?

Kevin had no immediate answer, just a tangle
of instinct and emotion. And no time to keep brooding about it. He
was due at the shelter soon. He cleaned up and managed to down some
coffee and toast before leaving.

Four hours later his chest was sore where his
ribs were still healing and his hands were raw from scrubbing pots
in hot water. The hours had served as a respite, the physical labor
allowing his brain to turn off for a while. He was no closer to any
answers. Yellow light from an ancient streetlight greeted him as he
stepped into the alley behind the shelter. Thorpe had insisted
Kevin park in the alley. His car looked unscathed but the two kids
he’d paid to keep an eye on it were gone. He hurried around the
front as he unlocked the door with the remote.

Dani sat with her back to the alley wall,
legs outstretched toward his car. He came to a halt, hoping that
squeaky fear noise he’d heard was only in his head and hadn’t come
out of his mouth. She was wearing his jacket again. Her hair was a
dark, tangled mass. Her lower lip was puffy and bloody in one spot
and a nasty scrape highlighted one cheekbone like Halloween makeup
blush.

“What happened to you?” What happened to the
people you fought, he thought but didn’t ask.

“Ah.” She waved a hand dismissively. “You
know how it is.”

He knelt beside her. Her eyes were clear and
she appeared calmer than when she’d left the apartment earlier.
“Let’s go for a drive. You can tell me about it.”

By the time they were north of
110
^th
Street, traffic had tapered off considerably.
Instead of heading downtown, Kevin took a circuitous route around
the western edge of Point Sable, sticking to surface streets and
taking his time. He gave her room to breathe and sure enough, she
talked when she was ready.

“I didn’t find them.” She stared out the
window, her right arm resting on the doorframe, fingers tapping.
“Went to a bunch of places. Bars. Couple strip clubs. Places where
people who have nowhere to go hang out. Nobody would talk to me,
even for money.”

“Do you think the Russians have intimidated
people into silence?”

“Maybe. I think it’s more likely it was me.
All cleaned up like this, I don’t look like I belong. That made
people suspicious.”

He glanced at her. It was true, she didn’t
look like she belonged on the streets. Even slightly beat up like
right now. “Tell me about the fight.”

Dani laughed. “I checked that stupid hashtag.
Then I went and got myself into a little tussle.”

“A tussle?” The thought of tussling with her
made his stomach flutter, and not in a bad way. Jesus, he needed to
make up his mind whether he was scared of her or turned on by her.
Or just admit it was both.

“Some big, dumb guys who thought they could
take what they wanted from any girl they wanted it from. I just
showed them otherwise, that’s all.”

That pleasant flutter turned to worry. “But
you’re okay, right? Are they okay?”

“I’m fine. They’re a little banged up but I
didn’t break anything.” She snorted. “Well, maybe their egos.”

Kevin worked his way east through the city,
heading toward the penthouse. Usually driving relaxed him. Just
turn up the stereo and drive aimlessly, not caring where he wound
up or how long he was gone. He did it a lot when a sketch or a
painting was giving him trouble. It helped clear his head. With
Dani in the car, so close he could reach out and touch her, there
was too much noise in his head for him to relax.

She didn’t speak again until they were in his
private elevator. “Can we go to the roof?”

“Sure.” He pressed the appropriate
button.

The city lights blazed in the sky. A patio
with a few tables, chairs, and chaise lounges, semi-protected from
the elements, was empty thanks to the brisk breeze coming off the
lake. Dani dropped into a chaise lounge, feet crossed at the
ankles, relaxed.

He looked closer. No, she wasn’t exactly
relaxed. Everything about her spoke of a momentarily subdued
tension. Jagged slashes of red and orange fighting on top of a deep
well of barely visible blue – that’s how he would have captured her
on canvas right now. The image in his head made his fingers itch to
paint.

“I really screwed up,” she said.

“How’s that?” He pulled a chair next to hers
and sat so they were facing each other.

“I know I need to leave. Even if I don’t
leave town until I find those Russian girls, I need to leave your
place. Put as much distance as possible between the two of us.”

Kevin could hear the offer in her voice. All
he had to do was accept, and she’d be gone. He thought about the
research he’d spent the day on. Everything he’d learned. Everything
he suspected.

The decision wasn’t so hard after all.

The wind lifted strands of his hair. He
stared at the ground, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees
and his hands clasped. Her stomach clenched in anticipation, Dani
waited for him to say it.
Yes, you should leave. I made a
mistake. You were stupid to think you deserved any kind of
sanctuary, any help.

No, Kevin wouldn’t say that. She couldn’t
imagine him being so overtly cruel. She could be cruel enough to
herself without anyone helping, except for maybe the voice that
haunted her nightmares.

He brought his gaze up to meet hers. “I did
some research.”

Dani sat up. This wasn’t what she’d expected
to hear. “About what?”

“The only business bigger in the world is
drugs. Billions of dollars, hundreds of thousands of people, and
nowhere near enough arrests. It’s modern day slavery.”

Her blood chilled. She pulled his jacket
tighter around her.

“It’s hard to pin down accurate numbers. I
looked at several legitimate sources of information but the numbers
vary. What it comes down to is, a lot of people. A lot. Some are
sold into labor. Sweatshops, agriculture, even restaurants. Most of
the victims, though.” He stopped and looked away.

“They’re sex slaves,” she said.

Kevin met her gaze, his blue eyes gone dark.
He nodded. “Street corners. Massage parlors. Strip clubs. Brothels.
Escort services. The private property of men with no morals.”

The question was written all over his face.
She wasn’t sure how to answer without giving too much away. “I
guess you could say I was in the labor category. I wasn’t a sex
slave.”

He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “But the
traffickers who sold you…they, they hurt you?”

Dani didn’t want to answer this one at all.
“Yes.” No details. Nobody ever needed details. From the raw,
agonized expression on his face, he understood enough without
needing a play by play of the things done to her and the girls who
became her friends.

He was quiet for a long time. No pity, no
sympathetic murmurings. Just silent companionship. Something wove
between them during that silence. He’d given her his trust when he
brought her into his home. Now, the thing that passed from him to
her in the quiet, windy night felt almost like acceptance, or at
least what she’d once imagined such a thing to be. Sometimes you
didn’t need to talk a thing to death, you just needed to let it
recede into the past until it was too far away to keep its grip on
you. Therapy had helped Nicole but Dani and Angel, they’d both
wanted nothing more than to leave it behind.