Hadn’t I paid whatever debt I owed?
“Do you know what your father planned for me, little princess?” Rubix’s fingers stroked my spine, digging into each vertebra. Each pinch left a resounding bruise on my flesh.
“He planned to teach me a lesson. To cut me from the Club, all because I had balls big enough to imagine a better way of life than he ever could.”
His touch slid over my ass, tracing my thigh and disappearing up the hem of Arthur’s T-shirt. “He was weak, your father. He believed in redemption instead of retribution. He believed in leniency instead of law. And look what happened to him.”
The men chuckled.
My eyes stung with unshed tears. My father had been a good man. Despite his chosen lifestyle and rule-breaking, he’d been kind and generous and loving.
This man … he was just a coward, a snake, an insect.
“Can you see the irony, princess?” Sycamore said. “Can you see how soft that motherfucker was?”
Cobra jumped in, ensuring I wasn’t stupid enough to miss their punch line. “Your father was a * and now he is dead.”
Rubix’s fingers skirted higher; repulsion tugged on my gag reflex. “Your father didn’t deserve this Club. And my son didn’t deserve me as his father.”
“Just me, Prez.”
That voice.
It sliced through the heavy stares and whipped around me with filth. I sucked in a breath as the owner ducked by my side and stared into my eyes. “Hello, baby Cleo.”
My cheek ached from kissing the table but it faded as my blood washed with wrath. “You.”
Arthur’s older brother grinned. The family resemblance was strong, with matching aquiline noses, symmetrical features, and sculptured lips. However, Arthur had prominent cheekbones that stretched his tanned skin, turning him ageless, whereas Dax “Asus” Killian had full cheeks and a dimple on his chin.
I bared my teeth. “I hoped you were dead, Asus.”
He grinned. “Didn’t you figure it out already? Life doesn’t care about your hopes.”
He looked pudgier than last I’d seen him—sitting too long on his butt hacking innocent people’s laptops with his own Asus computer. That was how he earned his nickname—by being a geek with bad intentions.
Turns out gifts with numbers runs in the family.
My nose crinkled at his horrendous aftershave. “I didn’t understand at first, but now I do.”
When I didn’t elaborate, Rubix pulled my hips back, grinding himself on me. “Understand what?”
Asus threaded his fingers through my hair, slowly tightening his fist until agony bloomed. Two Killians tormenting me and all I craved was the third to make it go away.
“Continue, by all means.”
My blood turned to dry ice, smoking through my veins. “I couldn’t understand why Arthur didn’t kill you the day he escaped prison, but now … I do.”
The men in the room grumbled under their breath. The stench of violence and cruelty thickened.
Rubix growled, “I suggest you think about what you’re going to say, otherwise—”
“I know what I want to say,” I snapped, cutting him off. Turning my attention back to Asus, I smiled. “He doesn’t just want to exterminate you; he wants to rip everything from you like you did from him.”
Asus leaned forward, drawn by my quiet voice. “He’ll be dead in a few days; then we’ll see who won in the extermination.”
Rubix’s questing fingers pressed against my inner thigh. “Everything he’s been working toward, everything he thought was secret will come to bite him in the fucking ass.” Raising his voice, he demanded, “Cobra, if you will.”
The bald-headed tattooed biker nodded and stood, leaving my left wrist unfettered.
Tucking my hand beneath my torso, I willed sensation to enter my shoulder and arm. If I spied an opportunity to fight, I needed my body to move swift and sure.
The men watched in silence as Cobra moved toward another door that led to a meeting room where Arthur and I used to eavesdrop on the men while they discussed world domination. He disappeared for a moment before returning with a prisoner.
A woman.
Her head was covered with a black cloth, her body naked and bleeding.
Oh, God.
The ground became quicksand as my hope sank into grainy despair.
“Let Cleo go, Sycamore,” Rubix ordered.
Immediately, my other wrist was freed, relinquishing me into Rubix’s control. Rubix yanked me upright, molding my body against his and holding my chin with biting fingers.
I squirmed. My flattened breasts smarted as blood rushed back.
“Recognize her?” His breath wafted hotly in my ear. “You should. She was there the night my son kidnapped you.”
I blinked, wishing I could ignore his every word. I didn’t know who stood before me but my heart hurt for her—for the obvious torture she’d endured.
One kneecap looked shattered. The right side of her chest was concave, and she couldn’t stand upright without being supported.
She’d been demoted from healthy human to emaciated marionette.