She starts to speak but then sees something in my eyes and instead says, “I can do that.” Nancy points to the food on the counter and then back to me. “Please eat. You need to keep your strength up for that goddamn awful human who hurt our girl.” I don’t ask her how she knows he’s here and who he is. Nancy has been loyal for many years and has become, over those years, very observant.
She walks past me and pats my shoulder before she leaves.
“Goodnight, Nancy.”
She tells me the same as she heads to the door.
I would usually lock the house, but I don’t want to risk Kalilah not being able to get in. I’m not one hundred percent sure she has keys, as Nancy is usually here whenever she comes home.
Walking into the garage, I head straight to the door that leads down to the basement. It’s dark. I turned all the lights off before I left. When I flick them on, his face comes into view, and he blinks rapidly against the lights. The asshole struggles against the restraints, but obviously, that doesn’t get him anywhere. I want to tell him how useless it is, but I don’t bother. I could tie a man up in three seconds, and if he were really good, it would still take him an hour to get loose. Trust me, my brothers and I have tried all the tricks.
“You stink.” I can tell he’s urinated all over himself. At my words, he looks down between his legs, where his blood is mixing with his urine.
What a despicable motherfucker.
How she ever fell in love with him is beyond my capability of understanding.
The asshole is in his mid-forties. He basically married Kalilah as soon as she was of legal age and then trapped her. She didn’t stand a chance. I did some deeper research and found that both her parents are still alive, and they often post memories of her on their Facebook accounts. Attached to these posts are messages saying they hope that one day she will come home.
I wonder what he did to get her to stop seeing her parents. I investigated their backgrounds too. They seem to be happy. She did too. It’s amazing what manipulation can do to someone when you know how to use it like a weapon.
I pull the gag off his mouth and take a seat opposite him.
“You want her,” he snarls. “She’s married, so you can’t have her.” It’s quite funny, considering the situation he’s currently in, tied to a chair and stabbed in the leg. Yet he still thinks he has some sort of control.
I stand up, then lean down, so I’m in his face, a devilish smirk touching my lips.
“She tastes phenomenal, wouldn’t you agree?” His eyes widen as he registers that she is now mine. Before he can say another word, I lift my boot and stomp on his foot. I can hear the bones break, followed by the scream, before I shove the gag back into his mouth and sit back down. Tears spring to his eyes, and I mess around on my phone while I wait for him to man up and stop being a little fucking bitch.
Opening my new favorite game, I sit and play to ease my anger. When I’m finally winning, I look up to see him spit the gag out onto the floor, his face red with anger.
“You don’t know who I am,” he growls.
“But I do, Mr. Carmel. I know precisely who you are. What motorcycle gang you hang with. How you fucked all different types of women and claimed the most precious one for yourself. But she got away from you, didn’t she?” I state. “You see, it’s me who you don’t know. Did you think you could just track her down and not check whose house you were coming to?”
“So what, you have money. I have more than that.”
What an absolute dick.
I grab his phone from the table next to me and hold it up to his face to unlock it. Finding the correct name in his contact list, I call the president of his gang, and he picks up straight away.
“You’ve been gone way too long,” a low, angry voice raises on the line.
“You must be talking about Mr. Carmel here,” I reply, making sure the phone is on speaker.
“Hobs, this man is crazy. He has me tied up!” Kalilah’s husband yells.
I raise a finger to shut him up. “Hobs. Is that your name?” I say. “I believe it’s really Harry, but if Hobs is what you prefer, then who am I to argue.” I chuckle. The dumb shit across from me, Tony, looks at me surprised. Tony Carmel. That stupid name should have been Kalilah’s first red flag.
“Who the fuck is this?” Hobs barks into the phone.
“I have your man, who thinks—” The idiot hangs up, cutting me off.
Now that wasn’t nice.
He doesn’t play fair.
I get up and go to leave.
“He will find you,” Tony calls out to my back.
“I’m looking forward to it!”
Twenty-Two
Kalilah
Alaska is fun, and after we go house hunting, she takes me for drinks with her friend Louise, who kindly informs me she once flashed Kyson her hooha. I laugh at the story. I can see why they’re friends—they balance each other out nicely.
When it’s time for me to go, Alaska offers to take me home, but I call an Uber instead.
She waves as the driver takes off, and not long into the drive, my phone starts dinging.
I look down to see it says my Uber has arrived.
What?
That has to be a mistake.
A delayed message?
Right?
Maybe I had too many drinks because I’m clearly in an Uber right now.
Lying my head back against the seat, my phone continues to ding.
I send a message through the Uber app telling them I’m in the car.
The driver replies back immediately, saying he’s waiting for me.
What?
“Sir? Um… I’m sorry to bother you,” I say to the man driving the car.
“Yes, Kalilah?” I freeze at his use of my name. The app doesn’t have my first full name, just Kal.
As I reach for the door handle, the car pulls over and stops. I jump out as fast as I can, gripping my phone for dear life, before I start running. But my legs are slow, and my breath is gone. Fucking alcohol. Arms wrap around me from behind and lift me up. I kick for all I am worth, but it’s no use.
“I’d stop that if I were you,” a voice calls out. “Seems you have caused a lot more trouble than you are worth.”
Confused, I whip my head toward the voice, sobering up as I do.
Shit! Hobs. It’s the president of the MC that Tony is a member of. “You ran far, but did you think he wouldn’t find you?” He steps closer and grabs my chin. “You are his favorite toy. So obedient. Until you ran.” He shakes his head, his hold on my chin becoming tighter. His fingers almost bruising as he grips me. “Now, tell me where he is.”
I shake my head, having no idea what he’s talking about.
“I don’t know, haven’t seen him,” I tell him. He removes his hand from my chin and uses it to slap me hard across the face. Instantly, I taste blood. Licking my lips, I meet his eyes, holding back my tears. “I don’t know…. I’m not lying,” I reply. He doesn’t like my truth, so he punches me in the stomach with such force I would double over if I weren’t being held up.
Talk about taking a fucking beating.
I’ve lost my breath and am struggling to catch it. And just when I do, he punches me again for good measure. This time, though, I spew all down my front, unable to stop myself.