26
Devil
Ricky had the main room’s TV on NECN when we got downstairs, both of our hair still soaked. At least Dasia had wrapped hers up in a sexy as hell messy bun. Mine just plastered to my forehead, but I brushed it back, not giving two shits what it looked like.
The newscaster laid it all out—what they knew so far, anyway. Dozens of men had been taken into custody, some being named and labeled. The head of the Russian mob in New England. f*****g Martínez, the head of the Martínez cartel. They even had an image of him in handcuffs where he’d been nabbed at Logan Airport while coming in from South America on his private jet.
I f*****g cheered at that one.
They showed clips from the harbor—and young women being led out of containers.
Dasia gasped and stepped closer toward the TV, and
