Chapter 29

Danielle

I’ve come to like sleeping next to Janus. Come to love it, actually.

He’s so tough and guarded when he’s awake. But when he’s asleep, his features are gentle, soft, and optimistic.

I like to wake up next to him, too.

Yes, our days are insanely full—just how I like it.

But it’s nice to take a few minutes to kiss his lips deeply, to be felt by those hungry hands, and to be looked at by those shockingly blue eyes.

This morning is not like that.

This morning, I’m not woken up by his lips, but by a call on his mobile phone.

I have to admit, it’s pretty hot when he speaks Arabic. He speaks it so fluently and elegantly that every syllable sounds poetic.

He speaks for a few minutes. Playing absently with my hair.

He looks concerned, but excited.

I’m willing to bet a year’s salary that Mahdi’s found something.

He makes a few more sounds of agreement, then hangs up.

Now he’s ready to kiss me, but I want to hear the news.

“Mahdi’s found the traffickers,” he tells me before I can even ask.

I knew it, I’m always right about these things.

This is exciting.

I get up to get dressed, but he pulls me back down.

“Dani, this is getting serious,” he says, furrowing that cute little brow. “Kidnap-and-murder kind of serious.”

“It’s literally kidnap and murder, Janus,” I remind him. “That’s what human trafficking is.”

He gives me a tiny smile, but for once, he’s not amused by my cleverness.

“I know we don’t need to go over this again, but can you promise me, you won’t rush into anything today?”

I’m feeling petulant. Janus is my employee, partner—and now my lover.

But, he’s not my father.

Still, I’m a little touched by his concern.

“Okay, I promise I won’t get myself killed… today.”

He finally let slip a touch of his joyful, charming laugh.

He has new outfits and covers for us today.

And thanks to Mahdi and Leviathan, we have entry and exit plans of the area out to five blocks.

We take the car through Istanbul’s old streets. No time to admire the view. Not to mention in-case-of-emergency plans.

“Now, remind me, what do you do if you feel like you’re really cornered?” Janus asks when we’re stopped at a light.

He turns to face me, and I am genuinely moved by the concern in his baby blues, but now is not the time for lovey-dovey stuff.

“I dunno, knock the guy out from behind and save your sorry ass?”

He laughs and looks back to the road just in time for the light to go green.

“No, that’s my backup plan. And it won’t happen again anyway.”

He takes one hand off the wheel for a second to squeeze mine, and our skin touching is intoxicating.

Oh man, falling for my hired muscle—or hired muscle and brains in this case—wasn’t part of the plan. But then, it wasn’t part of the plan last time either.

I guess I’ll have to adjust the plan—later, when I can finally tell him how I feel.

Right now, we have a plans-and-safety checklist we still have to go through.

“If things get really bad,” I say in a singsong voice. “I use our code-word. The bug in my top pocket will relay it to Mahdi’s men outside.”

“Exactly, but let’s both make sure things don’t get as disastrous as last time. Mahdi tells me this area was particularly difficult to infiltrate. We only have a few blokes in the field.”

His accent is even cuter when he’s stressed.

We park a few blocks away, double check our gear—which includes a small, concealable handgun for him—go over the plan one last time, and walk in.

It just looks like a normal factory.

But I can smell sadness a mile off, and so can Janus.

In my peripheral vision, I can see his muscles clench and his mouth go thin and angry.

Even angry, Janus remains a pro at his job. He takes us in through the back as if he owns the place, grunts an acknowledgment at anyone who looks our way. Doesn’t skip a beat.

And then, we are in a huge hall with seemingly thousands of women and children crammed into it.

There are guards standing all around the edge holding AK-47s.

I can feel my fists clench.

Janus subtly puts his hand over mine for the briefest of seconds, reminding me not to blow our cover.

He goes over to one of the guards and starts talking to him in perfect Turkish.

I stand here with an unimpressed look on my face, but I’m looking around too. Scanning the room and looking over those being held.

These people don’t smell like people, they smell like terrified animals. Like cattle waiting to be slaughtered. It smells like sweat, blood, fear, and, well, shit.

I can see dried blood on the faces of more than one young girl.

Hundreds of emaciated faces.

I hate this. It takes all of my self-control not to bash out the nearest guard.

But I know that wouldn’t help. I’m just insanely angry.

And then it happens.

Among all the dejected tired faces, I begin to recognize some.

More than some, I begin to recognize many.

I’ve talked to these girls in the refugee camps.

Some of them are badly injured.

Eyes swollen over. Blood in their hair. Flies buzzing around them.

My blood is boiling, and I’m madly trying to think of what my next move could be, when Janus walks back to me and motions with his chin towards the doorway.

I follow him back out, keeping up my casual disinterest despite my inner rage.

As we discussed earlier, we walk in silence all the way back to the car.

Once the doors are safely closed, I turn to him.

“I recognized a lot of those girls.”

My anger is palpable.

“I know,” he says, his voice soft.

“What’s the plan? What do we do? How many of them can we get out now?”

“Dani,” he touches my face sympathetically. “The plan is: go back to the loft, call for reinforcements, and regroup with a new plan.”

“No, no, no. Absolutely not. That cannot be the plan. No.”

“Dani, there are too many guards. It’s too dangerous. We need reinforcements.”

“You said yourself that this isn’t just a job or a story anymore, Janus! It’s real people!”

“I know,” he replies grimly. “And so are you. You do understand that if you die while working, you actually die, right?”

“Very funny. You do understand that if these women and children die while we’re waiting for reinforcements, they actually die too, right?”

He is looking at me with a hard, determined look on his face.

“And what purpose would your death serve these people?”

Fuck, I hate it when he’s right.

He kisses me deeply.

“You are amazing Dani. You are amazing, and I am in awe of your empathy and passion. But I’m not going to let you die today.”

I am feeling too many emotions at once.

That kiss was something.

And when did he turn into such a knight in shining armor?

Haven’t I proved to him time and time again that I can take care of myself?

Before I can respond, he has already started to drive away.

“Janus. I’m not happy about this. Turn the car around.”

“No. I’m not happy about you trying to get yourself killed.”

“Janus. I’m afraid that the girls will be removed before reinforcements arrive. Even tomorrow could be too late for them.”

“Dani, you’re talented at many things. Taking on entire factory, even with me as backup, isn’t one of your talents. Don’t be stupid. You’re not stupid.”

This hits me hard.

I’m so angry and sad about what I just saw, that it’s blinding all rational thought.

Janus knows this—knows me—but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.

“I hired you to get me into places. Not to teach me how to be clever. That’s my job. And I seem to be doing fine so far.”

His voice is quiet and eerily calm now. It feels like a splash of cold water against my face.

“Didn’t we agree that this was more than a job? Do you want me and my opinion? Or, do you just want me to forge some documents for you, so you can go and get yourself riddled with bullet-holes?”

I don’t want to fight with him, especially when it’s a fight that I’m not going to win this time around.

I want to fight those asshole guards.

I want to fight their bosses.

But I’m too angry and tired, to reply to Janus’ concerns without making things worse.

So I settle for putting my hand on his thigh and squeezing.

Hoping I can say words that my mouth can’t quite form yet through my presence.