Monster A Dark Arranged Marriage Romance - Vanessa Waltz Page 0,77
goddamned aesthetics. You grew up in a violent place that treats women worse than animals. I’ll purge this city of every biker scumbag if I have to, because it needs to stop.”
I faltered in the silence that engulfed us. Shock and disbelief rooted me to the ground. Hot tears slid down my cheek. I squeezed my eyes shut, warding off disturbing images of Tony slitting Patrick’s throat.
“There is something seriously wrong with you, Tony.”
“There’s a lot wrong with me. Has been ever since Legion kidnapped me.”
“I need to leave.”
“No, you don’t.” Tony grabbed my wrist before I stepped away. His arm looped my waist. He clasped me to his body, his reassuring scent clashing with his biting grip. “You’re staying here. You’ll get over this, and it’ll be all right.”
“How? Do you think my father will take this lying down? He’ll hit you back. Hard. Did you even consider the consequences?”
“I was too busy saving you from being raped. I had no clue where you were or who took you. You screamed before the phone cut off. You can’t imagine the fear. The utter fucking helplessness. There’s nothing I wouldn’t have done to rescue you.”
“What did shooting up a biker bar have to do with that?”
“That was a message to all those degenerates.”
“My point, you aggravating man, was that it was completely unnecessary!”
“My God, Evie. What planet are you on? They let K grab you. I would’ve given up my life to save yours, but no. They stood by and watched it happen!”
I wavered on my feet, more uncertain than ever. “We were outnumbered.”
“I don’t care! They could’ve stared down a machine gun, and I’d still be pissed off. They should’ve fought for you!”
“Sometimes y-you have to live to fight another day.”
“Evie. They knew what K does for a living and didn’t lift a finger to help—” His voice broke suddenly, and he squeezed his eyes shut. “I busted my ass to find you. I did everything in my power to get you home. Where was Jett? In a bar. Getting his drink on.”
I flinched, the energy leaving me like air from a ruptured balloon. Doubt hammered the glass walls surrounding my heart.
“I don’t believe you,” I said brokenly. “He wouldn’t do that. I’m his only daughter.”
His dark eyes reflected glimmers of light that weakened my knees. He blew a shaky breath and set his jaw.
“Evie, I’m so sorry.”
A heartbreaking silence followed Tony’s hushed words. They barely registered to my dizzied senses. I shook my head, weighing the structure of events against my husband, the only consistent force in my life. I was baffled. I shook off the pain and squared my shoulders.
Tony didn’t give a damn if he hurt me.
“You’re making shit up. You want me upset so that I’ll never see him again!”
“I don’t have to lie. I just have to tell you the truth.” Tony’s pained expression darkened, and he rubbed his temples. “Evie, do you remember what happened? After K took you?”
“Not—not really.”
Discomfort flitted across Tony’s brow before he melted into a multicolored blur. I wiped away tears as Tony grasped my hand and led me to the couch.
I dropped onto the cushions, numb.
“On the phone, you mentioned a truck,” Tony murmured, glancing at his lap. “What do you think was inside?”
“Guns or drugs.”
Seconds ticked by.
Tony sighed. “You need to confront this, Evie. What was K buying?”
I frowned. “That’s club business. Dad doesn’t tell me anything.”
“Take a wild guess.”
I blinked, my heart pounding. “I don’t know, cocaine?”
“Wrong. What else could it be?”
Memories stirred under the black fog obscuring those forty-eight hours. A giant door opening. Bare legs.
I’d seen the cargo—rows and rows of women.
That hit me like a sledgehammer to my ribs.
Oh my God.
Tony’s touch skimmed my arm and clasped my shaking elbow.
“Girls. The MC sold him girls.”
The images slammed into my head like stills from a graphic crime scene. A dozen girls in varying states of undress, drugged out of their minds, crammed into tight quarters. K’s frowning face hovering above mine. Hay littering the floor.
I stared at a computer screen, immersed in the evidence connecting human trafficking with biker gangs. I connected the dots between Tony’s strange obsession with my tax records. He didn’t want diamonds from slavery linked to his name. No fucking kidding.
I was culpable.
I’d aided my father’s horrible acts. I could’ve lived with a drug possession charge but this? I shut the laptop and swallowed hard.