Ricochet

Cora

I squeezed Allie’s hands and sucked in my first breaths of free air in a year. Someone in the back row cried softly. I wasn’t going to let my guard down enough for tears, but fuck, I could relate. In the end, we’d found thirty-three women in the fucking rabbit warren of that house, and I still didn’t know if that was all of them. Thirty-three. And I only knew four of their names.

God, and Allie had immediately started telling all of them I was an undercover cop. An ex-undercover, I corrected, but nobody had listened, so they all flocked around me. I glanced at the front seat where an older man drove us as smoothly as he could manage through the streets, headed for the airport. He’d said his name was Stan, and he had a decent energy about him. Fuck if that didn’t make me feel so much worse.

I’d stabbed the guy who led everyone here to rescue us. Nobody would give me a straight answer, especially not that guy who introduced himself as fucking Carp, but I saw how the doctors hovered