I will kill him.
My loyalty to King and the club shattered. Once we left this warehouse, I would make a fucking plan and I would rip the life from Joseph’s body.
King blurred into focus as Joseph shifted away. Coming to me, he said, “We’re done, Nitro. Time to go.”
I blinked.
Forcing out a harsh breath, I snapped back to attention. Turning, I stalked to the van we’d come in. I didn’t give Joseph another glance, didn’t want to look at him more than I had to. The next time I saw him would be the last.
* * *
I glanced at my phone, looking for a text from Tatum. I’d sent her one twenty minutes earlier and hadn’t heard back. Unusual for her. She never took more than ten minutes to reply.
“You gonna finish that beer or just stare at your phone all afternoon?” Devil asked.
My hand squeezed around the phone and I looked up at him. After I drank what was left in my bottle, I said, “Just waiting on a message.”
He chuckled. “Well, that’s fucking obvious. You whipped bastard.”
I stared at the empty bottle in my hand. If whipped was feeling anxious when you didn’t hear from the woman you shared your bed with each night, then yeah, I was fucking whipped. If it was worrying about her when she wasn’t with you, and thinking about her all the fucking time, then I was absolutely, 100 percent whipped. Something I never thought I’d be. And something that scared the shit out of me. Not because I didn’t want to feel that way about her, but because being with me could be dangerous for her. To hold that responsibility in my hands was more than I thought I could handle at times.
I took a deep breath and met Devil’s gaze again. “Yeah, you could be on to something there, brother.”
He grew serious. “I like Tatum. Not that it matters what I think, but a chick like that, who doesn’t take your shit and who stands by you regardless, that’s a chick worth having in your life.”
“You ever had that before?”
“Yeah, but I always fuck it up. One day I might get that shit right.” He jerked his chin at the bar. “You want another beer?”
I nodded, and he left me alone while he headed to the bar. Staring at my phone again, I decided to call Tatum, but as I swiped to dial her number, the phone rang. It wasn’t a number I knew.
When I answered it, a man’s voice sounded. “Is that Rhys Lockwood?”
My gut tightened. No one called me that anymore. Except for Joseph, but this wasn’t my uncle on the line and sounded too formal to be anyone he would associate with. “Speaking.”
“Rhys, it’s Matt Logan here, Marilyn’s psychologist.”
I dropped my head into my hand as fear filled me. “Is she okay?” He never phoned me. This couldn’t be good.
“To be honest, I’m not convinced she is. I just had a phone call from her and she was in such a state that I called an ambulance to her house. This phone call to you is highly unusual, I never do this, but I feel it’s crucial I pass some information on to you.” He took a breath before continuing, “Marilyn saw the man who raped her today.”
The man who rape
d her? I fucking killed that man. There was no way she could have seen him.
“Doc, that’s not possible. That guy is dead.”
“I’m not referring to the recent rape. I’m referring to the ones from when she was a child.”
The room spun.
I gripped the phone so tightly it should have shattered into pieces.
My mind ran in a million different directions.
This couldn’t be happening.
“You’re telling me that my sister was raped when she was a child?”