We head out onto the highway which will take us far from Crimson Falls, and with every mile I put between me and that shit hole, I feel the tension in my muscles ease.
Time and again I’ve wanted Lycan to see the truth behind all those old books and open those brick walls he loves to hide behind. I wanted him to realize things aren’t always as they seem. I loved Crimson Falls once. I didn’t want to leave. However, my home, everything I knew, was a lie.
When we reach the compound five hours later, it’s dark, but I’m eager to see her, talk to her. Swinging my leg over my bike, I turn to see Bear and Slade pulling the little minx out of the backseat. Her screaming and kicking are no match for the two burly men.
Bear grips her around the middle, lifting her as if she weighs nothing.
“Take her to the basement,” I instruct him. “It’s time for us to have a little family meeting.”
He nods, moving to the back of the house where we have a shed with a basement. This is where we take the assholes who try to fuck with us. And it’s where I interrogate them, ensuring they spill the beans about everything and everyone.
The staircase is gritty under my boots. The suit I’m still wearing doesn’t fit in with the dirty room I enter. “There’s my little niece,” I grin as I near her. Bear has her bound to a chair, blood dripping from her mouth. “What happened?”
“Bit down on my fucking hand,” he growls, showing me the teeth marks Scarlett left on the flesh between his thumb and forefinger.
I can’t help but chuckle. “Feisty little thing. Aren’t you?” I question, looking into eyes that remind me of her mother’s. So many secrets, so little time.
“Fuck you!” Fire blazes in her glare, and I can’t help but remind myself that she’s not her mother. She’s definitely not Marinda, the woman I fucked hard against their kitchen counter while Horatio was sitting in Heaven with young women on his lap. But Scarlett doesn’t know that. She reminds me so much of her mother, beautiful, filled with anger, and yet I can’t stop my dick from throbbing behind my zipper.
“Such a filthy mouth,” I observe. “Is that why Lycan was so enraptured by you?” Arching my brow, I don’t wait for her to answer before I pull out my phone. I quickly find what I’m looking for and hit dial, tapping the speaker icon so Scarlett can hear.
“Hello?”
“Dad! Help me!” She screeches at the top of her lungs Even though hearing her beg should ensure the need for revenge is satiated, it’s only anger that seems to surge through me and I backhand her across her face so hard, the chair topples over, taking Scarlett to the ground with it.
“What the fuck? Scarlett, is that you? What’s happening?” The panicked tone of Horatio Bardot is like music to my ears.
“So many questions, Horatio,” I finally respond after a moment. “I think your little girl needs a daddy,” I tell him, my smirk curling as the pretty redhead glares up at me from the floor. Bear moves to pick her up, but I raise a hand to stop him.
“If you hurt my—”
“Do you care?” I challenge, cutting him off. “Because weren’t you the one who signed her life over to Lycan Shaw?”
His response is guilty silence.
Tears glimmer in his daughter’s eyes. Horatio doesn’t know who I am. His mother never told him about his half-brother. But now isn’t the time for a family reunion.
“What do you want?” The resignation in his tone makes me smile. First this bastard, and then his mother. I’ll make sure they both pay for what they did to me, to my father, and to Lycan. As much as I hate my brother, he is blood.
“Fifty million in an account which cannot be traced. I’ll send you the details.” My gaze fixes on Scarlett. “I don’t need any negotiations on this. It’s the money for your daughter. Or will you sell her out again?” I hang up before the asshole can answer me or question why I’m doing this.
“Cut,” a voice calls from behind me, calling me by my club name, which causes me to turn. “Ambulance arrived at the Shaw mansion, Lycan is in ICU, doesn’t look good.” Kai, our enforcer looks at me before his gaze lands on Scarlett. The flicker of desire in his eyes dance like a flame as he takes her in. The torn dress, which is gritty with dirt, her face has a couple of scratches along with my large handprint, the blood caked on her mouth, and the way her eyes flash with pure venom makes her every fucker’s wet dream.
“Good. Keep me updated.”
He nods but doesn’t leave immediately. “If you need a hand…” He allows the sentence to hang heavy with promise. There is no doubt in my mind that every man who’s sitting in the clubhouse would love to be left alone with Scarlett. And I doubt she’d survive.