Mess Me Up
Page 40

The sick bastard, Rodrigo, had kept the kids locked up.
Apparently, with the two of them ready to run away, Rodrigo had caught them in the act of trying and had locked them up in a makeshift cell in his basement.
It was only when Rodrigo’s partner had come in and accidentally let them out in his haste to get to Rodrigo that the children had the chance to break free.
“He didn’t hurt us,” Diana said softly. “But he also didn’t help us, either. He didn’t feed us but once a day, and Ruben shared his food with me to make sure that I didn’t get too sick.”
I was feeling sick to my stomach myself.
“God, what a clusterfuck,” I murmured, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“I heard a lot while I was in there,” Ruben said. “Rodrigo never planned on letting us go, so he didn’t hold his words in front of us. His office was in the same room that we were locked in. He did business down there.”
“What kind of business?” Izzy asked.
“The kind where he talked about shipments and timing, and how to best hide it from the police,” Ruben answered. “I think he was a sex trafficker.”
All was silent for a few moments after that admission.
“His partner and him were in it together, then Rodrigo spilled his guts to the cops to get his plea deal. His partner wasn’t happy with him, but Rodrigo convinced him that it was the only way that their business wouldn’t be discovered. I don’t think that partner really knew the business they were in, though. I honestly think he was just a sicko that liked to do teen girls,” Ruben continued.
Castiel looked tired as he listened to the explanation.
The other two officers, Officer Beard and Officer Limas, watched in silence, letting Izzy do the questioning for now since she was getting the children to talk, and they felt comfortable with her.
“Anyway, long story short, Jonesy—the other partner came shooting shit up at Rodrigo’s place—found out that Rodrigo was only getting probation and no jail time, and he flipped his lid. Said he was taking out everybody who screwed him over and went to town. Rodrigo barricaded himself in his room and Jonesy left satisfied that he’d hurt Rodrigo, and the rest we don’t know about.” Ruben looked around the room with worry. “Sorry.”
I looked over at the prosecutor who’d been quietly listening in, accusation in my eyes.
“We told you Rodrigo was a bad man, motherfucker,” I growled.
The prosecutor’s face tightened. “I’ll take care of it.”
And he did.
Rodrigo was denied bail. The plea bargain was completely wiped from the table. He was charged with attempted murder and kidnapping of children—since they were both still underage—and sex trafficking, as well as the murder of the senator.
Chapter 27
When you start to lose weight, and your boobs are like, ‘I volunteer as tribute!’
-Text from Izzy to Rome
Izzy
“The doctors think Wade might lose his leg,” I said to my brother. “His ex-wife was also shot, and they think she might lose some function in her hand.”
“His ex-wife?” Slate asked. “When did they get divorced?”
My brows rose. “He calls her his ex. I don’t know when the divorce happened.”
“Funny that. Wade loves Landry.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
Though, over the last couple of weeks as everyone healed from that day, it’d been more than evident that the two of them still had feelings for each other.
“What about Ruben?” Slate pushed.
I smiled then. “Ruben is doing great. He’s put all his weight back on and more and is turning into a mini-Slate. He looks just like you, which I think drives the women wild—especially Diana.”
Slate’s lips twitched. “I bet that drives Oscar insane.”
“It does,” I agreed. “He hates that Ruben acts exactly like you. From what I hear, he even plans on going into the police academy when he’s old enough. I think I’ve convinced him to get his degree first, though.”
Slate grunted. “What about the football player?”
Last week when I’d visited, I’d told him all the juicy details that I hadn’t been able to tell him in the weeks since I’d last visited him.
And Slate had hung on every word.
He loved hearing about everyone and had become invested in them almost as much as I was.
“Linc’s girlfriend has a stalker, though he won’t admit that she’s his girlfriend. He claims she’s just a girl who’s a friend. That he just so happens to love with all his heart,” I drawled.
Slate’s lips twitched. “Give the poor kid a chance.”
“That poor kid is not that much younger than you, dumbass,” I teased. “And I don’t think it’ll be long. Linc’s on his phone more than he’s talking to the people around him. He’s worried about her.”
“I give it a month, tops,” Slate teased, then sobered. “I hear that Rodrigo’s on his way here.”
‘Here’ as in the penitentiary.
The prosecutor had done everything in his power to expedite Rodrigo’s sentencing. In the month since Wade had been shot, Rodrigo had pled guilty to all charges that had been lodged against him. At his trial just yesterday, he’d gotten ninety-three years with the possibility of parole at eighty years.
“Tomorrow,” Rome said, piping in for the first time. “Tomorrow he’ll be shipped here.”
Something passed between Rome and Slate then, and I was left wondering if maybe I should reiterate that Slate didn’t need to do anything stupid to jeopardize his own parole.
But I chose to stay my tongue.
Slate was a big boy, and he knew what he was doing.
If he wanted to beat the crap out of the man who had beaten the crap out of me, imprisoned two teenagers for three months and starved them, and was the reason behind another man losing his shit and going on a shooting rampage inside of a hospital, well then who was I to tell him no?
Rodrigo deserved what he got.
No questions asked.
I did relay a little bit of information, though.
“Rodrigo was shot in the left leg. It still pains him.”
***
Slate
I ground my booted foot into Rodrigo’s left leg, staring down at the little fucker who had done so much harm to my family.
What had started out as him smacking my sister around had turned into something much worse.
“What did I tell you would happen if you ever hurt her again?” I growled, pressing down.
Rodrigo started to cry.
“What. Did. I. Tell. You?” I snapped.
Rodrigo took a deep, steadying breath, and tried to breathe through the pain.
“You…you told me if I ever hurt her again, you’d ruin my life,” he hiccupped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that boy was related to her…and to you. I would’ve never taken him if I’d known. You made it more than clear when you found out I was h-hurting her that y-you’d kill me. I didn’t know!”
He ended that statement on a wail.
I believed the little prick.
When I’d found out that Rodrigo had been hurting my sister, we’d had a little chat. That little chat had shown Rodrigo the light, and he promised to never, ever touch my sister again. Nor would he go near her. We had an understanding that if they saw each other in the grocery store, he’d turn and go the other way.
And if he didn’t?
Well, I may be in prison, but I sure the fuck still had contacts everywhere.
I knew when things happened in my town, and I damn well knew if Rodrigo was following his word.
It gutted me to know that I’d fallen down on the job when it came to Ruben. When Ruben had been born, Oscar had made me his godparent. I took my vows seriously, and it really hurt to know that the fucker currently laying on the floor beneath my foot was the cause of such harm.
“All’s well that ends well, man,” Rodrigo wheezed. “Swear to God, I never meant to hurt them. I just knew the girl would talk, so I couldn’t let her out until I knew that I could leave safely. I had too many deals to tie up…I had to do it.”