“Callie!” Molly rushed toward her, opened her arms, and enfolded her in a hug. “Thank God you’re safe!”

Callie swallowed and hugged her back. “We’re safe, but not everyone else made it out. Henson and his men were all gone by the time the DEA arrived. They took some of the women with them.” Her eyes filled. “Lila didn’t get away.”

Molly hugged her again, then took her hand. “Come on. I’ll help you get settled, and you can tell me everything that’s happened.”

“You need to call your mom, Callie,” Skye reminded her. “Now that you’re back in the city. You know how she worries.”

“I’ll call her right away,” Callie promised as Molly led her down the hall to Skye’s guest room. Since Callie didn’t want to move in with her mother, the women would be sharing Skye’s second bedroom while they looked for work and started putting their lives back together.

In the meantime, Skye had plans of her own.

She looked up as a firm knock sounded at her door. She checked the peephole and was only a little surprised to see Edge standing in the hallway. He wasn’t there for her, she reminded herself. He would want to debrief, hear any other details Callie might have learned from the women inside the church.

“Everything okay?” he asked as Skye stepped back to invite him in. Both of them were still dressed in the black jeans and sweaters they’d had on when they’d gone into the compound the night before.

“The girls are getting settled. Callie needs a chance to digest everything that’s happened.”

Edge nodded. “I could use a little breather myself.”

Skye watched him cross the room. His features looked tense, his broad shoulders tight as he took a seat on the sofa, resting his tall, hard body against the cushions behind his back.

It took a while to unwind after a mission. It had been a tough few days.

“You want a drink?” Skye asked, definitely needing one herself.

Leaning back, Edge spread his arms across the top of the sofa. “God knows I could use one.”

“Whiskey, beer, or a glass of wine?”

“Whiskey.”

“That makes two of us.” She usually drank wine, but as she thought of Henson, the women in the compound, and the explosion that could have killed a lot of good people, a straight shot of whiskey seemed a better idea.

She headed for the ultra-modern stainless-steel kitchen that opened into the living room. After her very profitable trip to Mexico and her PI earnings, she had plenty of money, which her luxury high-rise apartment reflected.