Rose is howling on the ground, protecting her face.
Megan kicks her in her stomach. “God, you’re stubborn.” I see Caleb step in the doorway, looking impressed.
Sighing, Megan leans down and grabs Rose by her long hair, dragging her to the toilet. “Maybe having your face stuffed down a toilet will help jog your memory?—”
The woman is shrieking now, trying to pull away, her nose broken. “She’s with Bridget! Her mother took her!”
Roland goes pale. “What?”
“Where?” Megan crouches beside her. “Where did she take her?”
“To a clinic! That’s all I know!”
“You’re lying!” Megan punches her in the face once again.
“I’m not!” Rose sobs. “She was going to get that thing cut out of her! That’s all I know! Please!”
My sister lifts her fist, and Caleb steps forward, grabbing her by her arms. “That’s quite enough. Prison isn’t for you, Meg.”
“Are you kidding me?” Jake mutters, looking down at theincoherently sobbing woman on the ground. “She’d be ruling it by the end of the day.”
I’m already on the phone with Derrick. “I need to find Bridget Thorne’s phone?—”
“No need,” Roland says grimly. “I know which clinic she’s talking about.”
Caleb stays behind with Megan, and Jake stays with them in case Derrick’s people try to arrest our sister and she needs a lawyer.
Roland needs some help getting down the stairs, but I manage. We don’t waste a second. We’re back in Jake’s car, the sleazy motel shrinking behind us as the engine roars to life. My heart pounds against my ribs hard enough to hurt. I can barely get air in.
Roland is programming the location on the GPS.
“What kind of clinic is it?”
Deep down, I know. But I just need to hear it once, to confirm.
“Not a real one,” Roland says grimly. “It’s on the North side. About twenty minutes out. It’s... not official. Not clean. Rich enough to be discreet. Dirty enough to stay invisible.”
My stomach turns over.
Natalie. At a place like that. Alone, terrified, at the mercy of a woman who’s hated her existence from the start.
“Her mother used to go there,” Roland adds, quieter now. “Every time she got pregnant... she’d go there to get rid of it. She didn’t want to carry my children. She only wanted those of her lover. I only knew because I started following her.”
He presses his hand hard to his side, wincing against the pain. “I stopped her once. Just once.”
“Lucas?”
Roland sneers now. “He isn’t mine. I’m talking about Natalie. I dragged Bridget out of that clinic. She fought me viciously. She’d killed four of my children in there. She liked it, you see.Her own words. She never wanted to use protection because she liked the idea of murdering my children.”
The weight of his words sit on my chest like a goddamn boulder. Suddenly it starts making sense, her mother’s hatred of her. She wanted to get rid of Natalie.
I clench my jaw until it aches. “She’s not getting rid of anything today.”
Roland nods, his face a grim mask. “She won’t touch her. Not while I’m breathing.”
The city blurs past us in a wash of gray and neon. We’re heading toward a wealthier neighborhood now—tree-lined streets, expensive, but just worn enough to keep the wrong kinds of secrets.
I barrel down a side road, weaving around cars, ignoring lights. The GPS pings again, marking a spot on the map that makes my blood run colder.
