“He was nothing more than a good fuck,” she seethes.
I bend at the waist, thinning my eyes. “Did you have to threaten to kill his sister every time you wanted him to fuck you?”
Rocco snorts, and Francesca’s head whips to him in offense. He’s pale,
sweaty, and seemingly tired, but the malice in his eyes is unmistakable. “She stopped threatening that after the first two years—and I think it’s just because he got tired of hearing it.”
“Shut the fuck up!” she screeches, her face turning a ghastly shade of purple.
Doesn’t suit her complexion very well.
“No! We’re in this fucking situation because of you!” he shouts back.
“Because you couldn’t keep a handle on that stupid little bitch and refused to get
rid of her. And now look!”
Francesca’s bottom lip trembles. “Sydney was worth—”
“She wasn’t worth shit!” he roars.
“She was!”
“Or she was keeping your secrets,” I cut in dryly. Francesca’s head snaps to
me so quick, she nearly does herself a favor and breaks it.
“What did she tell you?” she demands, her voice cracking and eyes wild.
I shrug nonchalantly, giving nothing away. Sydney didn't tell me shit, but Francesca doesn't need to know that.
“Sydney knew?” Rocco asks with rage.
Francesca’s eyes widen, and she turns to Rocco with desperation.
“She found out… I-I don't know how. But she threatened to tell Claire if I allowed her to be auctioned. She acted out because it was the only thing keeping her in the house and our secret safe.”
My brows knit, trying to decipher what exactly Sydney knew.
“Why didn't you just kill her?” Rocco growls through gritted teeth.
“Claire wouldn't allow me to! She forced me to deal with it as a punishment
for failing to get Sydney under control,” Francesca cries, nearly pleading with her brother.
Rocco looks away, “Is that why you stopped letting people fuck them?”
Now I really am confused. Sibby and I glance at each other, and she must note my expression because she comes around and gets in Francesca’s face.
“Tell me what you were doing,” she demands. “I don't like being left out.”
Francesca snarls but quickly cowers when Sibby raises the pink knife to her
eye and threatens, “I’ll cut it out and make you chew it.”
Gross.
“We were making money under the table. People would pay us for a night
with one of the girls. We were making good money, too, but then Sydney found
out and used it against me.”
My brows shoot up, surprised by their gall to profit off of the girls behind Claire’s back, yet not at all because—well, it's fucking Francesca and Rocco.
Even Xavier whistles and looks at them with a lopsided grin. He's just as exhausted as the other two.
“Brave thing to do. Claire would've murdered you slowly if she found out.”
Rocco scoffs. “Should've just saved us all the fucking headache and let her tell,” he spits. “She was already crazy from that fucking cult. Did you think Claire was going to actually believe her?” He ends his question with a patronizing laugh. Xavier shrugs in a you got me there way while Francesca just gapes at him.
None of them notice the frozen girl standing before them, her spine ramrod straight and shock painted on her face.
“What cult?” Sibby finally cuts in.
Francesca’s mouth opens, then closes. “I don’t know,” she sneers. “All I know
is some girl killed the leader, and the entire cult disbanded after that. Wandered
aimlessly ‘cause they knew fuck all of what to do with themselves.”
My eyes widen gradually as she speaks.
There’s no way.
“How did Sydney get to Washington?” I ask.
“How else? She was homeless and picked up off the streets from a trafficker
and shipped to me to be groomed,” she answers, her tone dipped in venom. “I’m
one of the best in the world, and she was a tough case. I was working on her.”
She spits the last part to Rocco, flickering a scornful glare his way.
“Sibby, did you know her?”
She turns to me, a frown tugging down her lips.
“What did she look like?”
“Blonde hair, brown eyes. Two front teeth were crooked. She had a beauty mark on the corner of her mouth, too.”
She works to swallow, but eventually nods her head. “Yeah, I knew her. She
was my sister. I mean, all the children were my siblings. Daddy was the only one
allowed to get anyone pregnant…” she trails off, seemingly dumbfounded.
That… actually makes a lot of sense—Sibby and Sydney coming from the
same cult. Now that I think about it, their mannerisms are very similar. Bizarre,
creepy, and their maturity stunted. They’re both murderous psychos, but at least
Sibby has a heart of fucking gold, whereas Sydney’s was ashen.
Her expression drops, and she looks at me with all the seriousness in the world. “She tried to kill you? She was the one that kept hurting you?”
Thinning my lips, I nod.
“I’m sorry, Addie. It’s my fault she ever ended up there.”
Frowning, I say, “Sibby, it wasn’t your fault.”
“It was,” she insists. “She had nowhere to go because I killed Daddy. All of
them were left alone. She would’ve never—”
I grab her hand, squeezing it tightly. “Sibby, you couldn’t have known any of
that would happen. You did everyone a favor by killing that man. He was a demon, remember?”
Her lip trembles, but she nods. “Sydney was, too, and she probably smelled
like a rotten egg. I’m glad you killed her.”
I peck her cheek, hoping to rid her of any lingering guilt. “Go on upstairs.
You did great, and we got everything we needed. I just have one more question
to ask.”
She smiles and skips up the stairs, sadness forgotten.
I train my gaze on Francesca. “What happened to Molly?”
Her brows pinch with confusion, so I clarify, “She was a captive back in 2008. She wrote in the journal, and I found it inside the floorboards in my room.
I started writing in it, too. It’s actually why Sydney was going to kill me. I was
planning to escape, and she found out by reading that journal.”
Her expression sours, and I can almost see the memories flicking across her
gaze.