“Fine.”
I untie Hank from the chair. His wrists are red and raw from straining against the rope. He stands up unsteadily, giving her a long, concerned look before turning to leave. The sound of his hurried footsteps echoes through the basement as he flees.
“Everyone out,” I command, my voice tight with frustration.
I need to speak to her alone, and I’m struggling to keep my emotions in check. One by one, the members of my club file out, their eyes lingering on me as they go. Scar hesitates for a moment, clearly wanting to say something but deciding against it. With a nod, he leaves us alone in the basement.
“Jessica, I—”
“Before you say anything,” she interrupts, her voice sharp,“I just want to know one thing. Was that really necessary?”
“Kidnapping him? No, in this case, I guess it wasn’t. I could have called his boyfriend when we were at Hank’s house. I didn’t have to bring him here.”
“But you did. You tortured an innocent man.”
“Look, I’m not happy about how this turned out, but we’re trying to figure out who’s behind all this.” I sigh heavily, my heart aching at the thought of losing her trust.“I thought he was our guy. Who the hell calls someone a dozen times without leaving a message?”
“Apparently, Hank does. What now?” The disappointment in her voice cuts me to the core. After all this, we’re right back where we started.
“Scar was right. At least we can cross Hank off our list of suspects. That’s one less person we need to worry about.” I rub the back of my neck, trying to relax my muscles.
The tension between us is a thick, suffocating cloud as Jessica and I ascend the stairs from the basement. Her slender hand grips the railing tightly, knuckles turning white with each step. She doesn’t say a word, but anger radiates off her like heat from a wildfire.
Once we reach my bedroom, Jessica closes the door behind us with a resounding slam that echoes through the house. She whirls around to face me, her honey-blonde hair framing her flushed face like a halo of fire.“I don’t know if I can trust you anymore.”
“No! What? You have to. You’re not safe out there alone.” My hands clench into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms.“Usually, we only bring criminals down there.”
“Really?” Her eyes narrow.“Not only were you wrong, but you also seemed like you were going to lose control during that interrogation.”
I wince at the memory—how my rage had nearly gotten the better of me.
“What’s that about?” she asks.
I sigh, feeling the weight of my past suddenly press down on my shoulders.“The club … there’s so much you don’t know about us.”
“Obviously. I need to know that I can trust you again because, right now, I don’t. Not at all.” She leans against the wall and folds her hands under her breasts.“Start talking, or I’m leaving.”
“I don’t know where to start,” I admit.
“Nina told me about Jonathan Blackstone,” she says quietly. His name scratches across my soul like nails on a chalkboard.“What happened when you lived with him?”
“What did she say?”
“Not much. But I know it wasn’t good, whatever it was.”
“That’s an understatement,” I mutter, slumping down on the edge of the bed. I lean forward and put my face in my hands, trying to block out the flood of horrifying memories.
“If whatever happened with him will help explain why you kidnapped and tortured an innocent man, then I deserve an explanation. Why did you flee Blackstone’s ranch? Nina said you left in the dead of winter. Why?”
My throat tightens at her question. The memories are like a pack of wolves, snarling and snapping at the edges of my mind, threatening to tear me apart. But I know I owe her the truth.
“Blackstone …” My voice is barely a whisper.“He was a monster. He took me in when I was young, vulnerable, and he … broke me.” The words come out choked as if I’m struggling to breathe. And I am. Every time I think about him, my chest clenches and my lungs seize up.
“We’re talking about the same man, right? Governor Blackstone?”
“Yes.”
“You told me he adopted you.”
