Saint roars, and Galen curses. Caz growls. Theo pins remorseful eyes on me.
I hate this ugly fucker, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how much I loathe his hands on me, because pricks like him get off on that shit.
My guys need to keep it together.
I stare stoically ahead, remembering the end game. Sinner has only fessed up to ordering the hit on the commissioner. He hasn’t admitted to Daphne Leydon’s murder yet, so this needs to continue.
I retreat to that numb place within myself. One I’ve relied upon for years. A place I haven’t gone to in months. Brick by brick, the wall goes up around my heart, and I tune out my emotions, focusing on the mission—destroying Sinner and bringing The Sainthood to its knees.
“No one gets away with betraying me,” Sinner adds, punching Caz in the face. “And you have all betrayed me.” He yanks Theo by the hair, pulling his head back, stretching his neck at an awkward angle. “You think I don’t know what you’ve been doing behind my back?” He spits on Theo’s face, and my fingers inch toward the hem of my dress, ready to go for my knife. “You are traitors, and traitors need to pay for their sins.”
Sinner walks back to Saint, crouching in front of him. “Your mother tried to betray me, and I gutted her until I was swimming in her intestines.”
“You did her a favor. Death is preferable to sharing a life with a sick fuck like you.” Saint’s tone is clinical although his eyes seethe with rage.
Sinner punches him in the stomach before ramming his fist into his face. Blood spurts from Saint’s nose, and my fingers inch closer to my knife. I can’t stand by and watch him hurt my husbands, but I can’t end this too soon either. Not before we get what we came for.
The only way he’ll fess up is if I can get him to talk.
“You say we’re traitors. What are our crimes?” I jut my chin up, piercing Sinner with a haughty look. “Because it can’t be my mother. She chose to leave you, and you can’t blame a daughter for helping her mother to escape a monster. And I fucking killed a man because you asked me to. The commissioner is dead because you ordered it. What more do you want?”
He stands, patting his son on the head in a patronizing fashion. My fingers still at my side as he stalks toward me, but it’s too late—he’s noticed.
Clasping my chin in one hand, he tugs my dress up to my waist in the other. “Remove her weapons,” he commands, and two men step forward, unstrapping the knife and the dagger secured to my thighs. Their fingers brush against my skin, like vipers taking a little taste before sinking their teeth into my flesh, but I don’t flinch, reinforcing my walls and blanking out their touch.
Sinner lets go of my dress, and the silky material glides down my thighs, covering my exposed skin. Slowly, his hand eases up my thigh, under my skirt, and he cups my pussy through my lace panties, licking his lips as he eyeballs me. “You think I don’t know you’re working with the FBI?” He pushes my panties aside, spearing my cunt with two fingers, and I wriggle in Baldy’s arms, unable to stop myself from fighting against his vile touch.
Saint roars at his father, and I stop fighting, focusing on my husband, comforting him with my eyes, pleading with him to keep it together. I stare at Saint, letting myself drown in his blue eyes, using his face to ground me, helping me to blot everything else out, to distract me from his father’s disgusting assault.
When I’m satisfied Saint is more in control, I switch my attention to the game, deciding to play along, because keeping Sinner talking is essential to getting out of this nightmare. “What gave me away?”
“Do you know how long I’ve been looking for those files?” Sinner asks, sliding his fingers in and out of me.
Bile churns in my gut, but I hold myself still, not letting myself react in any way. I run with the opportunity presented to me. “I don’t have the Daphne Leydon files. If the FBI has them, they didn’t get them from me.”
“I’m not talking about that.”
“You’re not?” I feign confusion, ignoring his fingers inside me. “I thought you wanted to find out who’d stolen the evidence from you. Or are you no longer worried about being caught for Daphne’s murder now the commissioner is dead?”
“I’m talking about the Homeland Security files,” he snaps, withdrawing his fingers and evading my question. My body wants to slump in relief, but I freeze my muscles in place. “Do you know how long I’ve been trying to find those fucking files?” Shoving his fingers into his mouth, Sinner moans while licking them clean. “Salty as fuck.”
I want to sucker punch that disgusting grin right off his hideous face.
“Why am I not surprised.” He casts a glance at my husbands over his shoulder. “Think I might have pussy for dessert tonight.”
“Why do the Homeland files matter to you?” I ask before my guys lose it. “What do they have on you?”
The doors to the ballroom ease open, and Sinner’s irritating grin expands. “Always so eager for answers.” He yanks me from Baldy, but there’s no relief in being traded from one perverted psycho to another. “And I’ll give them to you, but first we have a little surprise. A couple of additional guests.” Keeping his gun at the back of my head, and his arm tight around my waist, he walks me back to his table in time to see his “guests” being hauled into the room.
“Mom!” I scream, bucking in Sinner’s arms as my mother is led into the room by two of Sinner’s men.
Oh my God.
How the fuck did this happen? Diesel said she was in Europe, secure in one of his safe houses, so how the hell did Sinner find her?
An unsettling thought lodges in my brain.
Did he do this? Has Diesel been working for Sinner this entire time?
CHAPTER 45
PAIN STABS ME through the heart and my lungs, working its way through every vital organ until I can barely breathe. If Diesel has betrayed us, then that means there is no rescue in sight.
No!
I don’t believe it.
Diesel hates Sinner, and he’s proven his loyalty to me time and time again. He last checked in with Mom a couple of days ago, and she was fine.
Someone must have betrayed him.
That’s the only explanation that makes sense.
My heart rate steadies, and my panic dials down, because I know, deep down inside, that Diesel hasn’t lied. That he’s on our side.
A strangled sob rips through the air, pulling me out of my head. Tears pour down Mom’s face as she’s flung into a chair, sobbing.
Dressed in a low-cut red and black ballgown that trails the ground with her hair and makeup professionally done, she looks beautiful on the surface—until you see the anguish in her eyes, the tears coating her face, and the fresh bruises mushrooming under the skin of her arms and around her neck.
One of Sinner’s goons secures her to the chair, and we stare at one another, silently conveying so much.
“Get your hands off me.” My head whips up in time to see Alisha slap one of the men manhandling her into the room. Unlike Mom, she’s not party ready. They have stripped her to her underwear, and her small boobs and skeletal frame are on display, making her seem even more vulnerable. Matted hair frames her makeup-free face, but there’s no disguising her sunken cheekbones and gaunt eyes. My gaze darts to Galen’s, and my heart breaks at the devastated look on his face.