What if saving little angels meant becoming the monster?
When Special Agent Nick McFarlane receives news his partner of eight years is in trouble he doesn’t hesitate. Throwing himself into a deep cover operation to expose and shut down The Micahs, a child trafficking ring, Nick enters unprepared for the reality that awaits.
Special Agent Meredith Richards took the assignment fully aware of the consequences. Leaving her life behind, she wouldn’t be able to get out with her life until she shut the Micahs down for good.
When Meredith’s informant is murdered and her contact inside the organization starts to lose control, Meredith is forced to make choices she can’t take back. On the edge of sacrificing herself, her principles, and her life, she begins to wonder if she will survive the case or if she even wants too.
Excerpt
Meredith returned to her apartment for a shower and hopefully a nap. The sun was setting, and the room filled with hues of pink and gold. Meredith closed the door with a sigh and threw her jacket and purse on the couch before moving to the bedroom.
Abruptly, there was a pounding on the door, and Meredith turned with a sigh. She kicked off her shoes and walked to the door. The instant she opened it, it pushed back and Devon burst through, holding a blanket in his arms. It took her a moment to realize what was happening.
"Devon, what are..." she started. He moved to the couch, dropping the blanket upon it. Meredith observed his frantic movements in confusion, and then saw a small hand fall from the folds of the blanket. "Oh my God..."
Devon blocked her movement toward the girl in annoyance, and gripped her arms tightly.
"What are you doing?" she asked him.
"Don't touch her," he growled.
"Let me go—what did you do?" she asked him, her heart racing. She stared into his black eyes and a cold dread raced down her back.
"You have to help me, Tal," he said, the coldness never leaving his eyes.
"Let me go!" she growled back at him, breaking free from his grasp.
She ran to the couch and began unwrapping the small form. Her chest hurt with every revealed layer, and her knees weakened in horror. The blanket slid away, revealing the girl’s small face. Meredith tried to hold back the anger and pain, but couldn't. She reached out, feeling for the girl's pulse. She found one, weak, but it was there.
"She's still alive—Devon," Meredith turned in hope. He stared back at her blankly. "Did you hear me? She's still alive, Devon! We can take her to a hospital..."
"Tal," he said in an icy and controlled tone. She moved to her shoes, pulling them back on.
"My car is just out front, if we take the stairs there's a less likely—" Meredith grabbed her coat. Turning back to the girl, Meredith stopped. She heard a popping sound, and her knees collapsed beneath her.
No, please, no...
Devon looked back to her, a stark rage consuming his face. He rushed her, pulling her off the ground and slamming her against the wall. "You will not tell anyone what happened."
"Devon—"
He put his hand around her neck and began to squeeze. "I..."
"Talia, I need you to understand..." he said, continuing to squeeze the air out of her. "Baby, I need you to—"
Meredith weakly nodded her head and reached out to touch his face gently. His grip loosened and released. She fell forward, gasping, landing in his arms. He held her tightly against him.
"Tal...Tal...it was an accident." He rocked her in his arms. "You have to believe me, baby, you have to understand."
Meredith couldn't move. She stared at the body of the dead child bleeding on her couch. Everything he said was a blur, and eventually she felt him move and leave her. He returned with a black garbage bag and began pushing the child's body into it. She watched the scene unfold, but was powerless to do anything to change it.
The door slammed, and she sat staring at the now blood-soaked cushions.
Time ceased to exist. The scene playing out repeatedly in her mind. There was no movement, no sound, no thought, just the child's face and the blood.
She was cold.
She was empty.
She was dead.
Boom! Pain! Blackness!
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