Cara disappeared five years ago with no goodbye and no explanation, and I locked that wound away while the Saints Outlaws hunted Chicago's trafficking rings.
Rescuing broken women is work I know; finding her in the middle of a brutal raid is not.
She is beaten and traumatized, insisting she never left me, that she was taken, and holding on as if I am all that stands between her and death.
I am torn between the feelings I never managed to kill and the blanks in her story I cannot fill.
I still do not know whether to pull her closer or push her away, yet the raid proved this war stretches far beyond the two of us, and that warehouse was only the start.
