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“Dad,” I say on a laugh.
He looks over his shoulder at me and smirks. “I hate liars and betrayal. This is both of those. I want them out of my city. That little girl was given a second chance when I could have slit her goddamn throat, and I consider that goddamn betrayal. I am done with her. And the attorney general will make sure nothing ever happens with the family. I don’t give a fuck what he pays for, what he does with his dick. But I will protect my family.”
And protecting the family is what we will do.
Always.
Simultaneously, we climb out of the car and together, we move through the parking garage toward the elevator. Swear to fuck, I have never felt more powerful than rolling in four deep, my father leading the pack.
The elevator climbs to the penthouse, and my father takes the key card out of his pocket as the doors open. Dad and Coleman step out together, then Wells and I follow behind them. I have my gun tucked into the back of my pants. I don’t usually get out in the field like this, and I can’t deny I’m a bit excited.
It doesn’t take us long to climb the back stairs. I haven’t had time to do any kind of blocking when it comes to their security system, something I am lamenting right now as we move quietly and swiftly until we reach the top of the building.
“Who the fuck decided on a penthouse?” I ask on a labored whisper.
My dad lets out a heavy sigh. “No fucking shit,” he wheezes.
Coleman opens the door, and we move through it and toward the hallway. There is only one door on this floor, so we can’t make a fucking mistake. We have a key to said door anyway.
My father is the first one in line. He moves toward the door, takes the key out of his pocket, and without a word or even a head nod, he opens it up and we enter. Moving inside, I have my gun ready. My brothers beside me hold the same stance, their guns ready to take these fucks down.
When we walk into the living room, I stop. I didn’t think I would walk into the living room to this sight, but here I fucking am. Shelby is standing in the middle of the room, her foot on the attorney general’s shoulder while he’s on his knees and eating her out. But he’s not just on his knees. He’s on his knees in a pink poofy dress.
“What the fuck?” my dad barks.
The attorney general turns his head, his eyes widening at the sight of four men with guns standing in front of them. Shelby doesn’t seem shocked in any way, though. Her lips curve up into a grin.
“Hey, boys,” she purrs.
“Want to have a seat? Seems as though we need to talk to one another face to face.”
She smirks as she takes her foot off his shoulder and moves toward us. “You have your guns out like you’re going to need them. I’m just a little woman, the whore you people made me.”
“Ass in a chair. You, too, dress boy,” Dad grinds out.
Thankfully, they both do what’s demanded of them. I watch them, my dad taking the lead. This is his thing anyway. He takes a step forward, standing between them, his gaze searching theirs for a moment.
“Want to tell me why the fuck you thought you could get this family into the skin trade?” Dad asks.
They shift their gazes from one to the other, then Shelby opens her mouth to speak. Dad raises his hand, his palm facing her. “I want to hear from him.”
The US attorney general looks down at his lap, obviously nervous, then he lifts his gaze to meet Dad’s. “We need girls for alliances with other countries and businesses. They are hookers anyway. They aren’t kidnapped, and they’re all willing.”
“True,” Dad murmurs. “However,” he continues, “you had my men working for you. You had Josiah’s women.”
I chime in. “And your people fucking kidnapped my wife. So I have a goddamn problem with all this shit.”
“What do you want to make all of this go away?” the attorney general asks.
At those words, my father’s lips curve up into a grin. “I thought you would never ask,” he murmurs.
And that.
Is that.
Chapter
Thirty-Seven
