Page 48 of Wreck and Ruin
“If Titan is Airlie’s biological father, why did her mother end up here…with you?” I ask, not taking my eyes off him now that he's closer. His very live presence makes me uncomfortable because my every fucking instinct tells me to kill him.
“Oh, you don’t know? I thought Titan would have at least told you, considering he’s had you spy on us for the best part of four years.” His temper rises, his holier-than-thou facade slipping, as he spins around and pins me with a menacing glare.
I reach for the cape draped over the shoulders of one of the dead bodies and lay it over Airlie, a blanket covering her naked body from his wandering, rapist eyes. I don’t give a single fuck what he does to me, but he won’t get the chance to do anything to my girl again.
I can tell that he doesn’t like how I am with her by the sweat beading on his wrinkled forehead, put there by anger and jealousy. I glower at him. Daring him to challenge me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he continues speaking.
What is it with priests and their sermons?
“Her mother, Charlotta, was just like the rest of them. Riddled with sin. She didn’t want a child. So, she ran to the nearest church and begged God for forgiveness because she wanted to abort her unborn baby. She claimed that the father was a dangerous man, and his lifestyle wasn't safe to raise a child. Of course, we couldn’t let her follow through with it, now could we?” he explains, and I can feel Airlie’s heart breaking with this information.
I reach for her hand on instinct but remember her wounds, so I rest my hand atop her arm instead.
“We learned that Titan was investigating The Royal about a year ago, but we weren’t aware of your involvement.” He gives me a pointed look, but I don’t respond. “It wasn’t until Captain Lancaster, or rather, Spencer Philips, spilled the beans about what you had all been up to. He sang like a canary when Charles cornered him. Well, as far as I know, it was the other way around. Your friend wanted money. They always do. And, of course, he wasn’t going to get it. That’s not how we do things around here. Charles did a deal with him to hand over cash if he took you out of the equation,” he says, shaking his head and gazing out the window, staring out at the ocean.
Spencer, that rat fucking bastard.
I knew he wanted out of the Mafia, but I didn’t think he’d sell us all out. As well as the souls of thousands of innocent people, women, and children, and for what,money? It makes me feel a whole lot better about blowing him up.
I say nothing as I contemplate the priest.
There is no soul hidden behind all that garb and aged skin. He’s made a lot of people money, and if it weren’t for me throwing a spanner in the works, he’d be making way more for a lot longer. He will want revenge for that, making me his number one target.
“Later that evening, I learned that my sister and her husband were sent to God as nothing more than ashes and dust,” he adds, his ears turning red with anger, simmering just below his surface.
I hate to break it to this idiot, but if he thinks Charles and Valerie Jensen were worthy of deity tickets, then he’s fucking delusional. I’ve met my fair share of pretentious, arrogant dickheads who all thought way too highly of themselves. Being in The Royal was rather eye-opening in that regard. But I am not delusional enough to believe that our souls would be even remotely salvageable after what we’ve all done here on Earth.
“How did you know I was here?” I question, growing rather bored and impatient with his bullshit.
He turns to face me, a crooked smile tilting at the corners of his thin, disgusting lips. He reaches into his pocket, and I stiffen, my body ready for anything as he pulls out a…ring.
My signet ring.
He twirls it around his middle finger and then glares at me with hostility. I keep my mask of indifference, despite being tempted to laugh in his fucking face.
“One of the guards found this, washed up in a little rock pool about a week after I learned of the death of my sister. I asked the guard to search the island for other potential belongings from the ship, but to my surprise, he discovered you chained to a wall instead.”
He circles us, an old wolf holding onto his last shred of supremacy before he’s taken out by a much younger, much stronger alpha. I look down at Airlie, not wanting her to feel unseen or for her to feel like she’s alone in this. I need to remind her that I am and always will be right by her side.
I would have done anything to hear her words, but she and I are so far beyond words that it isn’t funny. We speak in a language that no one else would ever understand. She’s the only person who knows me, the real me, not the man behind this invisible, bloodthirsty mask. And no matter what happens, that is one thing that will never, ever change.
I love her.
The priest surrounds us, whispering prayers to each and every single one of the decapitated bodies that lay in pieces on the floor. Each slow step he makes is calculated, an attempt at intimidation, hiding behind prayer.
Newsflash, it won’t work.
Fucking poser.
And that’s coming from me, an undercover ghost.
The half-wit doesn’t realize that he’s been waving around a tracking device, and I can only assume that Titan was alerted by its movement and will be sending help. Hopefully, sooner rather than later. Now that I know why the mission to destroy The Royal was so important to him, I don’t doubt for a second that help is coming.
Chapter25
AIRLIE
Ihave a family.
