“That’s horrifically true,” his wife replies. He snakes an arm around the back of her chair and rubs her back softly.
“They didn’t say anything that confirmed it, but when Felicity came in and asked me to go shopping, Gio looked at Heath before giving permission. And it was only after Heath nodded that Gio said we could leave.”
“I’ll figure out who Heath Slater is and what we’re dealing with,” Tucker says. “We need to know what that timeline is. Maybe Felicity went to the cops and they’re planning on moving in on Gio? We know he’s being watched and someone scraped everything about the family offline. It could be in preparation for making a move on him.”
Bradyn nods. “I’ll call Frank and ask him to see if he can poke around a bit. He has more contact with the feds than we do. Until then, you need to stay here on the ranch. And honestly, it’s better if you’re inside more than not. We have to keep you shielded from view on the off chance they manage to track you here and send someone to get eyes on you. Since you called us?—”
“It’s not a far reach to believe I’d come here,” I finish.
“Exactly.”
I take a deep breath. “Okay. I can stay inside.”
“I’ll bring you books,” Riley offers. “We need to avoid your house since they’ll probably be watching it. But you can borrow mine.”
“Thank you.” I smile at him, grateful for the kindness.
“And I have clothes you can use. I’ll grab you some other necessities from town,” Nova adds.
“I’ll see what I can find out about your betrothed.” Tucker stands. “What, too soon?” he asks after Dylan storms out of the kitchen, moving so furiously I’m surprised the floor didn’t catch fire in his wake.
“He’s already having a hard time,” Nova scolds Tucker. “You could have been more delicate.”
Tucker shrugs. “Sometimes, you need to give someone a good, angry jolt before they wake up.”
Chapter 15
Dylan
Music blasts through the speakers as I slam my fist into the heavy bag. I stripped out of my shirt at least half an hour ago, when it became so hot in here that I could hardly breathe. Not that it helped. I’m still suffocating.
I’ve been beating this thing up for nearly two hours now, and the edge I came here to burn off is still not gone. Honestly, it’s worse.
Because I looked up Heath Slater myself.
I may not have access to the systems Tucker does, but Google does a fine job of pulling up old news articles about the drug dealer who built himself an empire on the blood of innocents. Given he hasn’t been arrested in over a decade, I’m assuming he’s managed to bring some law enforcement under his wing too.
Which is going to make him even harder to stop.
Marriage.
Gio Karver intended to sell his daughter to a monster like Heath Slater—and for what? What could Gio possibly have to gain by doing that? Is it all about the name? Connecting the two men by marriage?
Why did he believe Emma would ever go along with it? Surely he knew she’d push back. That she wouldn’t go willingly. She didn’t even know him three days ago.
What if we hadn’t gotten there in time?
Except I know what would’ve happened. Men like Slater love the thrill of breaking someone down. He would have destroyed her.
That thought drops me to my knees. Ragged breath after ragged breath, I try to fight the intrusive thoughts. The images of Emma being forced into marriage—raped, beaten, whatever else Heath Slater felt he could do to her before finally snuffing out the light in her eyes.
I fall forward and brace my hands on the floor.
They’re bruised and bloody because I hadn’t even bothered to wrap them before moving in on the bag.
I thought the pain might help numb me.
“Dude, you’re going to kill yourself.” Lani comes rushing in and sinks to her knees beside me. Gently, she touches my sweat-slicked shoulder. I jolt at the contact, lightning in my blood. “Dylan, you’re trembling. Where’s Delta?”
