When he hit Ally’s old apartment complex, he saw construction had already begun on her blasted out unit. There was some structural damage; not much, mostly the windows blown out and fire damage, but they weren’t wasting any time fixing it.

He parked, got out, kept his phone in his hand and jogged to the building, in and up the stairs.

He tapped a knuckle on Rivers’s door and it was immediately opened by Santo.

Ren didn’t like the look on his face.

“Show me,” he ordered.

Santo got out of the way. Ren entered the apartment, moved aside and let Santo lead the way. Santo moved down the hall to one of the bedrooms but stopped at the door and turned to Ren.

“Boss, this is fucked up,” he warned.

Ren looked him in the eyes then moved beyond him and into the room.

Once in, he stopped dead.

Three beats later, he whispered, “Fuckin’ fuck me.”

“You want Lucky to nab him?” Santo asked.

Ren’s eyes moved around the room, his gut no longer twisting. It was tied in painful knots and it felt like something heavy was pressing on his chest.

This was because, all around the room, the walls were littered with pictures of Ally. Entering her apartment. Leaving her apartment. Walking down the hall. In the parking lot walking to her Mustang. Getting in or out of it.

And more.

Ally in Fortnum’s. Ally at Stella’s gigs. Ally bartending at Brother’s. Ally at the mall with one or more of the Rock Chicks.

And Ally entering and exiting his house. Some from months ago. Some from days ago.

The whole room was covered in Ally.

Every inch.

There were so many pictures, they were several layers deep.

“Boss? Lucky?” Santo prompted and Ren cut his eyes to the man.

“Yes, I fuckin’ want Lucky to nab him,” he growled. “And call Dom. Now.” He threw out a hand. “And take pictures of this shit. Detailed.”

After he issued his orders, he spent no more time in that space.

He walked right out.

His gut still tied up tight.

His chest now burning.

* * * * *

Ally

I walked into the down room at Nightingale Investigations to see the gang all there.

Every one of them.

This included Lee, Eddie, Hank, Vance, Mace, Hector, Darius, Matt, Bobby, Monty, Ike, Jack, Brody and even Luke, who just got back from his honeymoon with Ava that morning.

Jimmy Marker was also there.

This meant things were not as bad as I thought.

They were worse.

I didn’t call my welcome back, glad-you-survived-all-that-unadulterated-nookie to Luke.

I just cut my eyes through the men, got a bunch of chin lifts (seriously?), moved to a weight bench and sat my ass on it.

Lee watched me do it and turned to the team.

“Brief,” he began, his voice terse, indicating things weren’t worse, they were worse. “You all know the case Ally’s on and you all know about the payments, the players already uncovered and the note Meena gave to Ally last night.”

No one nodded. They all just kept their eyes on Lee.

After looking around, I followed suit.

“Brody found the trail,” Lee went on. “Cyrus Gibbons’s cellmate in Nebraska has links to Steiner and the crew here. This morning, Darius tailed Steiner and Bobby tailed Gibbons to a crew meet. There are five of them. Darius was able to get into position without bein’ seen to listen in. Their gig is, they got a man on each of Smithie’s women, and therefore his kids.”

Oh my God.

I closed my eyes.

“Gibbons is on Smithie,” Lee continued and I opened my eyes. “The girls don’t pay, givin’ their tip takes, they put the hurt on all of Smithie’s family. They talk, they put the hurt on all of them. They don’t give Gibbons what he wants during his private dances, he puts the hurt on Smithie.”

Seeing as my head was suddenly about to explode at Lee’s words, I had to let some of the pressure out.

Therefore, I couldn’t stop myself from hissing, “You’re shitting me.”

Lee looked at me. “Ally—”

“He’s raping them at Smithies?” I snapped.

“Forced blowjobs, same thing,” Lee answered, his voice tight.

I surged from my seat, shouting, “You’ve got to be shitting me!”

“Ally, cool it,” Hank said quietly.