Page 47 of Finn (Dirty Misfits MC 6)
“Anything you can give me.”
“So… you want to know, what? What I do on a daily basis? Who I do it with? Who commands me to do it?”
I furrowed my brow. “Beth, you know exactly what I need. So, let’s talk.”
When she started looking around again, I abandoned my plan. The only thing she was doing was stalling for time, and that meant I had just walked into an ambush. I leaned back as if I were making myself comfortable and untied my cardigan from around my waist. A waitress came and placed two waters in front of us, but I shooed her away before things got worse.
Because things were definitely about to get worse.
“Beth?” I asked softly.
She jumped before her stare returned to me. “Yeah?”
I sighed. “I know what’s going on, and I know what’s about to happen.”
Her face paled. “I don’t know what you mean.”
I leaned forward, giving myself enough space to slip my gun from behind my back. “I know that the Black Flags, run by a man named Chops, are trafficking underage girls. I know that they’re using The Body Shop as their headquarters, and I know they are also abusing their dancers before turning them into sex workers. I know about the drugs they peddle, I know about the shipments to and from Santa Barbara, and I also know what they’ll do to you if they find out you’ve actually, truly talked with me.”
A tear streaked her cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
I leaned toward her. “You still have a chance to fix this. But I’m telling you, Beth, what Chops might do to you is nothing compared to what you’ll experience in a maximum security prison, which is exactly where you’ll be going because you’ll be charged as an accessory to all of their crimes. Every single one of them.”
Her jaw dropped open. “No, that’s not possible. I didn’t do anything.”
“You’re doing something right now. You’re concealing information from a police officer about illegal activities. That comes with penalties that are just as harsh as those at the wheel of the crime being committed. So, what’s it going to be? Are we going to talk? Or, are you going to sit back and hope you survive the ambush you’ve just led me into?”
And that got her talking as her voice lowered to a whisper. “We don’t have much time. They were enroute fifteen minutes ago. I’d say they’re about ten or so minutes out at this point.”
I licked my lips. “All right, keep talking.”
Sweat formed on her brow. “There’s a warehouse near the port where they keep all of the young girls they ship in. They mostly come from Mexico, but there are a few they’ve pulled from places like Alaska and Hawai’i. They beat the hell out of them, Sloane. They beat them to a bloodied pulp and starve them. Dehydrate them. They do whatever it takes to brainwash these girls into submission before putting them all in a line and raping them to show them the price they’ll pay if they ever step out of line again.”
I felt sick to my stomach. “You’re doing so well. Keep going.”
Her hands trembled. “Then, once the girls are ready they get sent to specific clientele. Men and women that pay hundreds of thousands of dollars just for one girl.”
“I need that clientele list. Do you know where it is?”
She shook her head. “I don’t have the list. I never get access to it. But, Chops sure as hell does.”
“Do you know where the warehouse is? I mean, an actual address?”
She shook her head again. “No, but I can talk you through where it is. You got a way to jot this down?”
I tapped my temple with my finger. “Trust me, I’ll retain it. Now, where is this place?”
As she talked me through where to go in order to get to the warehouse, bike engines rumbled down the road. They grew closer before they pulled into the diner parking lot and Beth practically jumped out of her fucking skin. But, after she was done telling me about the warehouse, she told me something that stuck with me.
Something that I couldn't shake.
“They watch the girls in shifts, these guys,” she whispered quickly, “and during the day they have their prospects watch other them. Those guys are usually hung over from partying so much the night before because that’s pretty much all their prospects do. And you didn’t hear this from me, but they party at their clubhouse.”
I blinked. “Do you know where that clubhouse is?”
She sighed. “Right above the warehouse where they keep the girls. It’s in a separate loft space that is accessed from a staircase you find in the cellar of the warehouse.”
I picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. “You’re a fucking animal in the best way possible, thank you so much.”
