Athalia Quinn

15 - Slow

How do they find it in themselves to fucking laugh after all this? Strong ass girls, they are.

Nicolas helps the girls who are unable to walk get to the vehicles outside.

The girls that refuse to go with us, I'm left to deal with.

You'd think, after the cases I've dealt with, I'd find it easy to communicate with them. But no. This is the fuckin' hardest shit I have to do. How do you convince someone who's been abused nearly their entire life to follow a guy they don't fuckin' know?

"Food, water, blankets and help are out there," I announce to them in English then Italian. They stare back at me, fucking wide-eyed. Now what? "I promise no one will touch you, nor hurt you. Prometto che nessuno ti toccherà, né ti farà del male."

Four girls rise, wobbling on their bare legs. Looking at their eyes only, I say, "Get the others to follow you, yeah?"

One of them slowly nods, then turns to the three beside her to tell them something in a language I don't understand. They spread out, assisting others to stand and leading them out the door.

Soon enough, there's two left, gripping onto each other for safety.

"English?" I question. No response. "Anglaise?" Again, no response. "Inglese?" Nothing. "Engels?" I don't know how many other fucking languages I try, but "Ingilizce?" gets me a nod.

Great, Turkish.

I don't know fuckin' Turkish.

Through the earpiece, I say to the guys, "One of you better be fucking Turkish."

Frannie, on the earpiece, reminds me that Maxen can speak Turkish.

She's in Boston, watching us through the camera's we had set up. Her training is near complete, and though she's fuckin' annoying with her bossy ass, she's exactly who we need as our tech.

Maxen, walking back into the warehouse, rolls his eyes me, "Once again, you forget that I'm quadrilingual."

"How the hell is someone supposed to remember that big of a word?" Fisher chimes in as he returns, candy bars in hand.

I motion to them. "The fuck are those for, immature ass?"

"For your information, bossman," he says, "most kids enjoy a tasty treat."

"You can't fuckin'lure them," I cross my arms. Damn idiot.

He shrugs, making his way to the girls that are probably at least nine years old. "I'm not, I'm just offering it."

Kneeling before the girls who flinch away, Fisher tries to give them the candy bars. He looks over his shoulder at Maxen, "Want to tell them what these are so they can stop blankly starin' at me like I'm offering them a damn bomb?" He smiles sweetly at Maxen.

"Çikolatalar, yemek için güvenlidir. Nefis, keyfine varacaksınız," Maxen tells them. (Chocolate bars, they're safe to eat. It's yummy, you'll enjoy it).

"The fuck did he just say?" River asks as he joins us.

I shrug.

But the girls reach out for the bars, so whatever he said worked.

Fisher takes hold of their free hands, slowly getting them on their feet. "There we go," he murmurs. "You're safe, you can trust me. C'mon."

The amount of patience he has fucking amazes me.

Maxen translates his words, trailing behind them.

River drags a hand over his face. "Can you believe those shitheads? How sick do you have to be to do this to someone?"