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“Not yet. Wait on me. I’ll be right back, and York Waters will be gone for good.”
Chapter seventy-two
Jax
Iwant to kill York Waters. I want to put my hands around his neck and kill him, but if I do that, I’ll be in jail, and Emma will be out here, in this hellish mess, by herself. I’m not leaving her alone. Ever. I have no idea why that has to be how it is. She’s right. We’re new, but it doesn’t matter. That woman was meant for me, and I was meant for her.
I cross the living room and exit to the front porch, the early fall chill off the ocean doing nothing to cool the heat of my state of pissed off. Savage is standing there, staring at me like a damn statue, where he’s clearly been waiting.
“He raped her,” I say, not to betray Emma, but because Savage is too smart not to already have this figured out. He also needs to know just how badly I want to burn York. “He took pictures,” I add. “And while I consider myself an ethical man, I still want him dead. I’ll settle for destroyed, but I want him fetal and crying like the little bitch that he is. Are you in or out?”
“You had me at dead, but I’ll settle for fetal. That’s a job I’ll do for free. What’s his story right now?”
“Chance found out that his father had an affair with Marion from Breeze Airlines. He told York he’s going to tell Marion’s husband.”
“And the fucker is afraid Marion’s husband will pull his business loans.”
“Exactly,” I say. “In turn, Emma thinks he’s about to go public with photos he took of her as payback.”
Savage snorts. “If he does that, he looks like shit. He’s bluffing.”
“He’s not bluffing.”
At the sound of Emma’s voice, I rotate to find her stepping onto the porch, her dark hair lifting in the breeze, her cheeks flushed, eyes glistening but dry. Strong. Brave. So damn beautiful. “He has a company and reputation to protect, just like us,” I say. “That’s on our side.”
“He runs a sex operation on his boats, Jax,” Emma says. “This isn’t just parties. It runs deeper. He’s that bold.”
“He’s in deep with Marion’s husband for money,” Savage says. “He doesn’t want to lose that money.”
I glance over at him. “How deep?”
“A whopping forty-nine percent of his stock,” Savage announces. “And per a look-see at his books, the boy doesn’t seem to have any of his own money left.”
“Ripe for a hostile takeover,” I say. “Maybe I need to lend a hand to make that happen.”
“Then you have a man who has nothing to lose,” Savage says. “And those are the men you don’t want to meet in the dark.” His lips twitch. “Unless you’re me, of course.”
“Monroe is all about the brand,” Emma says, stepping closer, huddling up with us. “I don’t know York as a desperate man, but when I say Monroe is about the brand, I mean high-end brand. If he’s that big a stockholder, and York creates a scandal, Monroe will be out for sure.”
“Then he’s bluffing like a bitch,” Savage says.
Emma purses her lips. “Maybe. I just don’t want to gamble with York. I can’t gamble with him. Not with the Knight and North brands on the line.”
I could tell her that scandal doesn’t destroy companies. That, in fact, it often works as free press, but this scandal is about her rape. “I need to call him,” Emma says. “We’re doing a lot of talking about his motives when he’ll blast them right out of his mouth. He likes to talk.” Her cellphone rings in her hand, and she glances down. “Speak of the devil himself,” she says. “And a devil out of character. He doesn’t call back after a threat. He just acts.”
“Which confirms he’s desperate,” I say. “Let me talk to him.”
“No,” she says in instant rejection, shaking her head. “I’m done avoiding this man. I’m done avoiding in general. I need to be the one to beat his ass down. But you can listen.” She eyes Savage. “He’s a fool. Record him and watch and see.” She then not only answers, she answers on speaker. “What do you want, York?” she asks, her voice strong, anger radiating from the depths.
“Check your brother,” York says. “If he tells Monroe about Marion and your father, you know what happens.”
Savage pulls out his phone and pushes record, motioning for Emma to lead him onward. She gives a tiny nod and says, “What happens, York? Spell it out for me.”
“You know what happens,” he replies. “Don’t you, sugar?”
She cuts her stare, her jaw clenching. “You tell the world you raped me?” Her gaze shifts back to the phone, staring at it as if it’s him, with fury in her eyes. “Or would you rather I do that?”
“Seemed like you wanted it to me,” York taunts. “A kinky, kinky Knight heiress. The world will be intrigued.”
