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"Like fuck I will." I rattled the handle. "Either you open this door right the fuck now, or you'd better step aside, because I'm going to break it down."
She hesitated, giving me enough time to ram my shoulder into the door which busted open, hanging pathetically off the hinges. Georgia shrieked, stumbling back in an effort to get away from me. Now, she was terrified, and the sick part of my mind was pleased when she stuttered, "I'm c-calling the cops!"
"No, you're not." I walked inside her home and caught her just as she raised her cell to her ear. Before it could ring, I grabbed it from her hand and smashed the phone on the ground, grinding my heel into it. "I told you, Georgia. I'm not letting you get away with this. With whoring out your own sister. If you don't help me find her, I'm going to tear this place to shreds looking for her. You got that?"
"What do you want?" she screamed at me, eyes filled with contempt.
"I want Violet." My voice was calm, though I had to resist every urge I had not to push her aside and keep searching for my woman. "I know you called her. I know you made her leave. What the hell did you tell her, Georgia? You must've lied to her."
"All I told her was the truth!" Georgia was screaming, her face reddening as she stared me down. "That you're the one who put our father in jail."
"You don't know what the hell you're talking about. I had nothing to do with that."
"More lies, Devlin?" She laughed bitterly. "At least Violet's safe now, away from you. She'll never belong to you again."
"That's where you're wrong." I approached her, and she shrank back in fear, even though I never laid a finger on her. "I'm getting her back. And if you think she's safe with your psychotic husband, you're more fucked up than I thought. Now tell me where she is."
She looked away, squirming beneath my watchful gaze. It was then that I noticed it, the faint, blueish hint to the skin around her eye, and then more of it, soft blue and purple circles on her forearm. Georgia saw me looking, and forcibly pulled down the sleeve of her dress.
"What the hell is going on here?"
Momentarily distracted, I looked away from Georgia to find Peterson standing in the lobby looking furious. Every instinct I had was screaming at me to rip his head clean off his shoulders. I took three steps forward, and the bastard scrambled, trying to get away from me.
"What's happening is that you're fucking dying tonight, Peterson."
"Not so fast," the guy laughed, clicking his fingers. "First of all, Windsor, I'll bill you for the door. The stained glass on it was Italian. Gothic. Cost a fortune as you might imagine, though I'm sure you'll gladly replace it to keep this little... outburst of yours under wraps."
Two thugs appeared behind the bastard, a silent warning of what was going to happen if I didn't stop pursuing Violet.
"Now, I really think you've outstayed your welcome," Peterson went on coolly. "I suggest you get the fuck out of my house before I have you thrown out."
I ignored his words, taking a step back. Instantly, the goons stepped forward, one on each side of Connor. I smirked, saying, "Can't even defend yourself, can you, you fuck?"
"Do watch your tongue," the sly bastard said with a slimy smile.
"Where is she? Where is Violet?"
"Little Violet Cabot?" His voice dripped with innocence, but I knew just how fake it was. He was a sick, perverted fuck and I was going to have his balls for this. "I just gave her a ride to the bus station, like she asked. She was so eager to get away from you, Windsor. I wonder what the fuck you did to her."
"Liar," I snarled. "Does your wife know you were trying to buy her sister, Peterson? Does she know what a sick, sick son of a bitch you are?"
The prick didn't answer, instead walking over nonchalantly to his wife and placing his arm around her waist. Surely, I wasn't the only one who saw her flinch, but neither of the thugs responded to it, making me wonder how long Peterson had been abusing the woman right under everyone's eyes.
"Of course she knows," Connor finally replied, his saccharine smile firmly in place and his persuasive gaze locked with his wife. "She knows everything, like a good wife should. Don't you, dear?"
"I d-do," Georgia stuttered, and I watched her husband pinch her skin firmly when she stuttered. "I know what you did to her, too, Devlin."
Before I could object, Connor sighed heavily and went on. "Of course, I tried to do things the right way and buy the girl... Make it easier for you, Windsor. But you just had to make it so very difficult, didn't you?"
