“Zacharias. Has he been in contact?”
Jeremiah sinks into the seat opposite me and crosses one leg over the other. “Interesting. You’ve got that same grit my Tainted girls have. I wonder who the first to touch you was?” Shrewd eyes just like Zach’s pierce into me and I fight against the desire to stab them.
He doesn’t know what Zach did to me, but he suspects.
A smug, sickly satisfied smile graces his lips. “Relax, Freya. I keep control of what is mine. You and your team have nothing to fear from my wayward son.”
A trickle of sweat runs down the back of my neck and I fight the urge to brush it away. Instead, I sit forward in the chair, resting my arms against my legs. “For someone who preaches about the purity of women you don’t seem awfully bothered that your ‘wayward’ son is a pedophile. I wonder what your followers would think if they were to hear you were bank-rolling his activities…”
Jeremiah takes a sip of his water before sinking back into the hammock seat like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “You and I are a lot alike, I think. We both understand how the mind works. The thing about brainwashing is that it’s so easy to do and sohardto undo.” Cornflower blue eyes capture me. “I could ask my people to stand in the middle of the road and they would do it until a truck flattened them, so don’t think for one moment you can threaten me.”
I try not to let his words get to me, but the heat is suffocating and it’s becoming hard to think. Corrugated iron lines the walls, trapping the burning intensity of the fire. I swallow, my throat parched. A headache pulses at the base of my skull and my eyes sting.
I force myself to ignore it all and focus on profiling the man in front of me. There was no guarantee he’d agree to see us. But he did, which means he’s got motivations of his own.
I jut my chin out and ignore the wave of dizziness that hits. “I want the details for the bank account you gave to Zach.”
“And why would I give you that?”
“Because you want something from me too.” It’s the only thing that makes sense.
Jeremiah smiles as he takes another drink. “Clever girl.”
He doesn’t say anything else, so I wait him out. He drums his fingertips against his thigh before putting his glass down on the floor beside his seat. “The woman who helped you hide Rebekah and her brother—I want to speak to her.”
It shouldn’t be possible given how hot it is in here but my whole body goes cold. “No. You can’t have them back.”
“Calm yourself. I have no desire for those who are no longer willing followers.”
He and I have different definitions of the word willing, but I stay quiet and hear him out.
“I want to talk to your friend. That’s all.”
“On the phone?”
He dips his head. “That will suffice. For now.”
“And if I arrange that, you’ll give us access to Zach’s accounts?”
“I’ll pass on the details to your friend once we’ve spoken.”
“If you’re not after Rebekah or Sam, what do you want with her?” Flames lick the edges of my vision. My skin burns.
“Are you alright, dear? You look a little flushed.” The bastard smirks.
“What do you want with her?” I grit out.
Jeremiah picks up his water. “Just a conversation.” My eyes catch on the condensation running down the glass.
Fuck.I’m going to faint if I don’t get out of here. “Fine. I’ll talk to her.” The room sways as I push up from the chair. I shouldn’t have given in that easily, but the need to breathe air that isn’t burning my lungs is overpowering.
I pull open the door and gulp down the cold. It spreads through my lungs as the wind catches against the hair sticking to my skin.
Oz stares at me with wide eyes.
I just shake my head and strip off my sweat-soaked jacket. “Let’s go.”
The guards escort us back to our car but before we get in, the younger one hands me a piece of paper with a phone number on it.
