“I’ve got this,” I tell him with a nod.
Gibson, normally a playful and easygoing guy, clenches his teeth as though he’s trying to hold his words in.
“What?” I bite out.
“Nothin’, Prez.”
“Your attitude says fucking something.”
His nostrils flare. “She’s just a kid.”
“Genworth’s kid,” I remind him, squaring my shoulders.
He winces at the reminder. “I know. I just…never mind.”
Soft fucker. Always has been.
“Get out of here,” I grunt out. “Let me worry about all this.”
After a heavy sigh, he nods in resignation before exiting the slaughterhouse. The moment the door is closed shut, I turn to look at her.
The fire blazes bright and her small form remains curled up under a blanket. I can smell vomit and a pang of worry cuts through me before I have a chance to push it away.
She’s not Blaire.
I walk over to the mattress and nudge it with my toe.
“Wake up.”
“I’m awake,” she croaks.
Silence.
I’d expected begging and crying. She has to know we didn’t rescue her, we kidnapped her.
“Daddy’s little girl was nothing but a fucking mole, huh?” I taunt. “Had a scheme with your little fuck buddy, hmm?”
She doesn’t respond.
Truth is, I know this shit had nothing to do with her. She’s involved because she’s a Genworth. In last name. The information I found on Genworth and Putnam’s relationship goes back to when she was truly a little girl, which explains how a prissy rich girl got in with a kid like Junior. Their fathers were business partners of sorts.
And when her boyfriend was killed, she started letting his daddy dick her instead.
I think back to the times she tried to hurt me and throw in my face that she sucked Putnam’s cock. At the time, I’d thought maybe she had just been pushing my fucking buttons just to piss me off. It did. I hate that fucker and with her words, she opened that old wound. It’s been bleeding ever since.
I drag the chair Gibson had abandoned closer to her. He left a bottle of Jack, so I snag that before sitting down. It’s a shame this girl shares that motherfucker’s blood. She was a good fuck and one I might have actually kept around had the circumstances been different. I was an idiot to let my guard down and think I could enjoy sex and affection once again.
What a fucking lie.
Every part of myself that deserves such a thing died that day along with my family.
I unscrew the lid to the bottle and suck down a long, burning gulp. It heats me from the inside out. My stare roams over the exposed skin of her bare shoulder. Her pouty, but cracked lips. Those brown eyes that gleam with fury despite her weakened state.
“Thirsty?” I ask, offering her the bottle.
She shakes her head.
“Do you like Putnam’s cock inside you?” My words are cruel and filled with venom that stings. She’s not immune because she flinches.
“Fuck you,” she rasps.
“I did. And apparently, so has everyone else.”
Her brown eyes glisten with tears. I’m forced to look away because it makes my chest ache. Fuck her. I will not feel sorry for her. “What do you want from me?”
I take another swig of the Jack. “Everything.”
“You want to fuck me? Fine, do it.” She tosses the blanket aside, revealing her pale, bony, naked body to me. Bruises litter her thighs. Anger swells up inside of me for a brief moment, but I swallow it down.
Not mine.
Not Blaire.
Genworth.
I take a deep breath and then drink more of the Jack.
“Cover yourself,” I growl. “I’m not here to fuck your skanky ass. I’m here to tell you a story.”
She jerks the covers back over her and glares at me. “I hate you.”
“Feeling’s mutual, baby girl.”
We both wince at my pet name.
Fuck.
I let out a deep breath and launch into my story.
“Before I was this”—I wave my bottle of Jack around me, sloshing some out onto my fingers—“I ran an international cyber security threat firm. I was the fucking best.”
Her brows furrow together. “Same as my dad?”
“Same, but better.” I’m not gloating. It’s the goddamn truth. “I made a lot of money because I could break into anything, which meant I wrote programs that could protect against anything.” I take another sip of the Jack. “I was in deep with the NSA. Life was good for me.”
Heaviness settles around us.
Black, cloying, suffocating.
“And then I walked in on the most horrific scene. A couple of fucking bikers had my wife and my daughter tied up. They were hurting them. They…” I choke on my words. “I went crazy and was knocked out. When I woke up, Ellie had been brutally raped and was dying. My sweet…fuck, my sweet baby girl was so upset and there wasn’t a goddamn thing I could do about it.” A tear races down my cheek and I don’t bother wiping it away. “I watched Putnam rape my daughter. And then I watched as he stabbed her to death.”
Hadley’s bottom lip wobbles and her eyes are red as she silently cries. “I’m so sorry.”
Her words are a cold blade cutting through me. I sit up and stare at her with as much hate as I can muster, enjoying the way she flinches.
“Your fuck buddy Putnam was friends with your father. Am I right?”
She nods, her eyes sad with realization.
“I broke into your father’s network. I found everything. He paid Putnam to kill me and my family. To eliminate the competition. All so he could send his pretty little princess to every pageant she could ever want to compete in.” I crack my neck and glare at her. “How does it feel knowing you Genworths won? Was it worth all the fancy shit your daddy gave you?”
“Koyn,” she chokes out. “You’re not being fair. I knew nothing about this or my dad’s business affairs.”
“Business affairs?” I roar, heaving the bottle at the fireplace. It lands in the fire, sending a little burst of flame billowing out. “It was an ambush and cold, blooded murder all for the name of greed.”
She sniffles and sits up, her entire body shaking. “The ‘X’ on your face?”
“‘X’ is where the treasure is located on the map. They branded me. I stare into the mirror every day and am reminded that the shit inside my head is what got my family killed.” I scrub my palm down my face and bark out a sinister laugh. “But they didn’t kill me. I was supposed to die. It was too late for me to save my girls, but I broke free. I killed Putnam’s friend and have been hunting him down ever since.”
She sits up on her knees, her chin quivering. “So now you’re going to hurt me? To make my father pay?”
“It’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“It’s no better than what they did to Blaire!” she accuses. “You’re doing the same thing!”
I shrug. “Casualties of war.”
She shakes her head, her eyes wild. “N-No. You can’t do that. I’m like her. Like Blaire.”
“You’re nothing like her,” I snarl.