Jigsaw (Hell's Handlers MC 3)

But she didn’t. She strode right up to him and Zach before she saw the pile of beaten man on the ground. Her eyes widened before her gaze collided with Jigs. He hadn’t moved from his spot on the ground, but rose now and held the eye contact.

So much passed between them in that brief moment. Sorrow, guilt, desire, sadness, even understanding and acceptance. The connection only lasted a few seconds then Izzy turned all business. “Girls?” she asked.

He wanted to reach out and grab her. Haul her to him and kiss the fuck out of her, but she’d probably take that heel and stab a hole right through his foot.

“Follow me inside,” Rocket said.

She nodded, and without so much as a word for Jig, tromped off after Rocket.

“Hold up,” she said when she was in front of the kid who came into her shop.

“It’s you,” he spat out. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

She grinned down at him. “That’s right, it’s me. Guess next time you better watch who you’re calling a bitch. Might come back to bite ya.” With a wink, she stepped to her right, in front of the guard kneeling beside the kid. “Got a message for you to pass along to Lefty.” Without warning, she cocked her arm and rammed her closed fist into his face. “That’s for my fucking windows,” she said, then spat at his feet. “I’ll let these guys dish out punishment for the girls.”

Then, as though she truly was the warrior queen she resembled, she marched into that barn behind Rocket, leaving the rest of their group outside laughing at the scene.

“Shit, Jig,” Zach said when he could talk again. He held his hand in front of his eyes. “Think about your grandma or something. No one wants to see that shit.”

Jig glanced down and, sure enough, there was a sizable tent in his jeans. What could he say? Her unique combination of warrior and woman got him every time.

IZZY FOLLOWED ROCKET through the open barn door and straight to the back where a room-sized storage closet waited. The entire place had a lingering smell of horse shit so Izzy breathed through her mouth until she got used to it.

“Have you seen them yet?” she asked Rocket as they walked.

“No. Could hear them crying, yelling. They sound fucking terrified. Zach and I didn’t want to go in first and scare them. I’ll let you go, and you can assess the situation. When you come out, we’ll all have ski masks on. Don’t want the girls getting a look at us. You want one, too?”

“Um…” She gave it a moment of thought. It probably would be wise to keep her face covered in case these girls gave her description to the cops. On the flip side, they might lose their shit if a masked person barged into their room. She’d take her chances on convincing them to leave her out of it. “Nah, I’m okay.”

“All right,” he said with a nod. “Figured you’d say that. That’s why I asked in here instead of around Jig. He won’t feel the same.”

It didn’t matter. He’d be out of her life soon enough. Sadness washed over her, but she pushed it away. No time for a pity party right now.

“Here we go.” Rocket indicated a door where she could hear sniffling and light crying behind. “It’s unlocked. I’ll be right here. Holler if you need anything.”

Izzy nodded. “I’ll be fine. Be ready with the van for the girls.”

She gripped the doorknob and stepped into a room she couldn’t have imagined in her most fucked-up nightmares. Rotting hay was strewn all over the floor, leftover from the building’s farm days. The smell she’d mistaken for horse maneuver reached foul levels in the room. It became clear the odor was human waste. Three buckets lined the wall to her right with rats and bugs crawling all around them.

Her stomach lurched, and she swallowed down the bile before turning her head to the left.

Huddled in the corner with their arms around each other were six young women, girls really, trembling, crying, and so filthy she couldn’t even tell the color of their skin.

A few had visible wounds, split lips, a black eye, cigarette burns to their arms. Izzy’s heart, which she kept safely boarded up, cracked in two and bled all over the filthy room.

The tallest, and she assumed oldest, took a step forward, all false bravado and pretend toughness. Izzy didn’t even know the girl, but at that moment, she felt so proud of the feisty teen who was trying to protect the rest of the girls.

“Who are you? What do you want?” the girl said, standing at her full height of no more than five feet three inches.

Despite the disgusting floor, Izzy sank down until she was sitting cross-legged. Looming over a bunch of terrified kids wouldn’t help the situation. “My name is Izzy. I’m here with a group of men who want to help you.”