“I’ll have it rushed through my contacts. If there are any illegal drugs in it, we’ll know by tonight.”
After thanking him with a smile and a handshake, I head to the Dungeon. As I enter the parking lot, I scan my surroundings, seeking the little yellow car Megan used to tail me last month. My shoulders slump when I fail to locate her car. From the intel Isaac’s security team gathered on her, she’s usually here waiting from me from 4 PM every day.
After throwing off my seatbelt, I bolt inside the club. There are a handful of people milling around. It's only late in the afternoon, so most partygoers won’t arrive for a few more hours. I kick a barstool when I fail to locate Megan anywhere.
It’s barely bounced two times when a deep voice at my side remarks, “You know how to fucking pick them.”
Isaac is standing at the entrance of his office. His arms are folded in front of his chest, and his glare is lethal. He knows whom I’m seeking without me even needing to ask. That’s not unusual. Isaac knows everything.
“Do you know where she is?” The blood surging through my veins chops up my words, revealing how hard I’m working to reel in my anger. I’ve never been so enraged.
“I’m taking care of it.”
When he pivots on his heels and enters his office, I follow after him. “What do you mean, you’re taking care of it?”
He sits in his large leather chair before gesturing for me to fill the one across from him. I shake my head. I can’t sit down. I’m too worked up with adrenaline to sit. When his eyes narrow, wordlessly demanding I follow his command, I plop into the chair. My foot taps up and down relentlessly as my body struggles to calm the tension surging through it.
It does little good when Isaac asks, “Why the fuck didn’t you read the documents your lawyer gave you?”
My brows scrunch. “What are you talking about?” I’m confused as to why we need to discuss this now. I’ve got much more pressing matters to take care of.
Glaring at me, Isaac throws an envelope into my chest. It's the same one Jenni’s mom gave me the day I found out I wasn’t the father of Megan’s baby.
“She told me everything I needed to know.”
“No, she fucking didn’t!”
Isaac moves around his desk to snatch back the envelope. Remaining quiet, he pulls out the chunky document inside. He flips through the first two pages, which is an itemized invoice. When I saw the total of my lawyer’s bill, I understood why Jenni’s parents are so wealthy. It was phenomenally high. Lucky for me, Isaac settled the account.
When Isaac finds the page he’s looking for, he shoves the document back into my chest. “Read it.”
After rolling my eyes, I do as instructed. The more I read, the more my heart slithers into my gut. “She was never pregnant?” I half-question, half-inform.
“She's a fucking virgin!”
My eyes dart up from the document to Isaac, certain I heard him wrong.
I didn’t.
“When the gynecologist’s scan didn’t find a fetus, he did a little more research. Her hymen was still intact.” He glares at me angrily. “You went and got yourself a fucking psycho.” His voice bellows around the room as a vein in his neck looks seconds from bursting. “She's been in and out of the psychiatric ward for the past year. She did a runner a few months ago after knocking the orderly out cold.”
As my panic soars, I vault out of my chair to pace back and forth. “I fucking knew she wasn’t quite right.”
After several minutes of cursing my stupidity, my gaze drifts back to Isaac. His ass is propped on the edge of his desk, and there’s a weird look on his face. I’m about to question his odd expression when his cell phone rings. With his eyes arrested on me, he walks around his desk to answer it. During his conversation with a member of his security team, he gathers some documents from his drawer, then hands them to me.
Bile races up my throat when I scan the documents. There are several photos of Jenni entering Dr. Morgan’s office, walking out of our local grocery store, and getting her sugar fix at a local bakery. Her eyes have been gouged out in every photo, and someone has drawn trails of blood down her legs.
The next lot of photos are of a scene you’d expect to see in a crime show. Duct tape, rope, and several medical instruments—including a scalpel and a pair of forceps—are spread across a stainless steel table. My stomach heaves as images of what Megan was planning to do with this equipment filter through my mind.
With my hand clamped over my mouth, I rush to the waste bin in the corner of the room. I lose my stomach contents inside, the last photo in the file too much for me to bear. It shows a step by step process on how to perform an illegal caesarean. The images are so graphic, all I can see is Jasper being cut out of Jenni.
Once my stomach settles, I lift my fearful eyes to Isaac. He has finalized his call and is watching me intently.
“How are you taking care of this?” I ask him, wanting to ensure there’s no chance Megan will ever have the opportunity to hurt Jenni or Jasper again.
Isaac’s nostrils flare as his pupils dilate. “You don’t want to know. You just worry about your family, and I’ll take care of everything.”
Ignoring my shocked gasp, he shuffles through some papers on his desk, never once looking back at me. This is the first time I’ve been truly curious as to what he does for a living, and it makes me wonder if Nicole was right all those years ago. Is he a mobster like people claim? Or is nothing below him when it comes to keeping his family safe?
