He? Who? What was he talking about? Why were we going into my bedroom?
Fear raced through me. If I could make enough sound, someone would hear me. Trevor. God, Trevor would hear me if I could scream or make enough noise.
But whoever had me trapped in his arms knew that, and his hand smothered my mouth. I was having trouble breathing as I dragged in air through my nose.
When he went to shut the door, I elbowed him in the ribs. He grunted, but his hold remained.
“Relax,” he barked. “She’s a feisty one. Like one of your mares.”
Mares? Like a horse? My eyes scanned my dimly lit bedroom and hit the man sitting in the rocking chair in the far corner. My lamp beside the bed was on, but it offered little light. All I could see was his profile in a soft yellow glow. They’d shut the curtains, and the rest of the room was left in complete darkness.
But the light was enough to know who it was.
Killian’s father.
The monster in the closet. And the bogeyman under the bed. At least that was what I used to think of him. Now, all I saw was a weak, pitiful man who had been cruel to Killian, which seemed more significant since knowing about Emmitt. And someone who hurt defenseless animals.
“Are you going to be quiet?” his dad asked. He sat in my rocking chair and it groaned as he slowly rocked.
I nodded, but it was a lie.
His eyes shifted to the man holding me and he gave a curt nod. The hand slid from my mouth but the second my mouth opened, a fist plowed into my side, and the wind knocked out of me. I bent over, tears filling my eyes as I fought for air.
My captor hauled me up, and something was shoved into my mouth, so I was forced to drag in air through my nose. “Don’t make this hard on yourself,” he whispered into my ear.
Fuck you.
“Savannah Grady. The trailer trash with the druggie mom.” My eyes snapped to his, heart pounding. He recognized me? How did he know who I was?
“I thought it was you at the club, but I wasn’t sure until I had someone check into it. Just like your mother, dancing for money.”
I had no idea what he was talking about.
“How do you think she had enough money for the drugs? Waitressing?” He laughed, the chair continuing to rock as he spoke. “She worked for me. In one of my clubs, but the dancing involved was a little more… well, interactive.”
No. My mom didn’t dance. She hated dancing and was always telling me I should give it up. That I didn’t have the right body for it.
Oh, God, had she been trying to convince me not to dance because she didn’t want me to end up like her?
He clucked his tongue, shaking his head back and forth. “It’s a shame what happened to her. I heard it was the drugs, not the accident that killed her. She was a beautiful woman and made me a lot of money. I bet Killian pays you well, too. Does it include you fucking him?”
I struggled against my captor and managed to kick his shin, but all it did was get me another fist, this time to the ribs and I bent over, breathing heavily through my nose. I swallowed back the bile in my throat.
“Did Kill tell you about his brother and his mother?” He stood and strode toward me. My chest rose and fell erratically. “His brother was going to be famous. A football star. But Kill was always jealous of him. That’s why he let him walk home alone that day. He knew the kids were bullying him.” God, he was insane to believe Killian would do that. Why did he hate him so much? “From your expression, I see he’s told you. That’s a surprise. He never talked about Emmitt. Even when I forced him to look at his picture and tear it up.” My stomach lurched. “Did he tell you his mother overdosed after Emmitt died?”
The drugs. It was why Killian had been so against drugs in school and at Compass. He’d lost his mother the same way I had.
“So, he didn’t mention his mother? I guess you don’t know he’s not my kid either. That he’s a bastard.” He reached out, and I flinched but was unable to move away from his touch as he ran his finger along the curve of my neck.
I stopped breathing, my insides curdling. I was afraid I’d throw up and suffocate on my own vomit.
He picked up strands of red curls, rubbing them between his thumb and forefinger. “I told your mother once I liked your red curls.” My heart skipped a beat. Oh, my God. “She didn’t like that. I think she was afraid I’d put you in one of my clubs. I may have if you hadn’t left.”
He dropped the strands of hair. “You’re stubborn like her. I like that. The spirited horses always turn out to be the best, once you break them.”
I’d been right about his dad. There were no good bits. No wonder Killian warned me at the cemetery not to trust everyone. Because he’d grown up with this man.
“Remove the gag,” he ordered, then scowled at me. “Scream, and you’ll lose your front teeth.”
I coughed as my captor pulled the gag from my mouth and tossed it on the floor. Everything in me wanted to scream, but I knew if I did, I’d never get enough out before his threat became real.
“Killian will be furious when he finds out you came here. One of his men is outside right now. You’ll never get out of here without him seeing you.” Furious was an understatement. And it worried me what Killian would do.
He laughed. “Why do you think we’re here? You know what he was like, don’t you, Savannah? I wonder how he’ll feel when he sees the bruises on you.” The bruises? His eyes flicked to my captor and the steel arms released me. I staggered to the side of the bed, away from both of them. “I suspect he’ll revert back to his old ways and that fa?ade he hides behind will break.”