I’m not sure if it was arrogance or what, but the men kept their hoods down, unfazed with onlookers seeing exactly who they were.Įven with the low-quality video and dim lighting, I was able to identify them immediately. I nod my head, my mind racing as I try to figure out what the fuck I’m going to do.Ībout six months ago, a video leaked on the dark web of four men in black robes performing a ritual on a little girl. Looks like different men, but these ones aren’t identifiable. “No, Mark was spotted at a restaurant last night with his wife during the timestamp of the video. “Is it the four we’ve been tracking?” I ask. And to be honest, the people who do are the ones who are trafficking them and committing the crimes. But he also doesn’t have the stomach for it, and I can’t blame him.īecause I don’t either. Jay isn’t one of those people, he’s doing what he can. Because if they don’t look, then they can go back to their normal lives and live on as if there aren't thousands of people out here dying every day. Everybody knows it exists, and most will educate themselves on how to avoid it, but they can’t watch when it comes to the reality of it. That’s what most people do when it comes to human trafficking. Jay knows how hard I take these things, but he also knows I refuse to turn away from them. “Yeah?” I respond, my voice hoarse and barely there. “Z?” I had forgotten Jay was even on the phone. When the video is over, I have to turn away and breathe through the urge to vomit. Because even though this innocent soul is now gone, that doesn’t mean I won’t do everything in my power to find justice for him. I force myself to watch and endure the pain alongside this boy. They fill metal goblets with his blood and drink the entirety of the cup in one swallow.

I run a hand over my face when they plunge a curved knife into his chest. His little voice breaking as he cries for help. Over and over, he’s screaming to let him go. The person recording is breathing heavily, more than likely from the risk of being caught doing something extremely dangerous.įour robed men stand over a stone slab with a squirming little boy tied down to it. It’s a grainy video of a fucked up satanic ritual. The video starts playing, and despite my instincts screaming at me not to, I turn up the volume so I can hear. I roll my neck, cracking the muscles and gearing up for something that’s going to make the steak I just ate settle in my stomach like a wrecked ship in the ocean.

“Already encrypted and sent to your email.” “Where?” I bark, my fingers already flying over the keyboard.

It’s dirty, but I’ve never been in the business of keeping my hands clean.Īnd it allows me to dedicate my life to ending human trafficking. In the end, someone wealthy gets fucked over, my client makes a massive profit from it, and I collect interest on it.

It’s only my concern that they get what they hired me for. I don’t give a fuck what their problems are with each other.

Haunting adeline book series