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“Why the fuck would you tell him all that?”
“I was harboring a minor in a sex club. I had to put all my cards on the table in case he traced her back to me. Then I had to figure out what he wanted to keep his mouth shut and his ass at a distance. Right away, he accused me of having sex with her and threatened to report me as a pedophile.”
“You should have just killed him and been done with it,” Liam hissed. “Or at least called the police.”
“If I had, Raine could have gone to foster care. I refused to risk her being placed in a home worse than the one she’d escaped. And if I’d given into my violent urges, I would have gone to jail instead of being around to protect her.”
Liam couldn’t deny the logic, even if he hated the explanation. “Then what happened?”
“Bill and I came to an agreement. I promised not to plaster fliers of Raine beaten black and blue all over his neighbors’ doors if he kept his mouth shut, didn’t report me, and never came near Raine again.”
“It couldn’t have been that easy to make him agree to all that. What else did it take?”
Hammer tightened his grip on the wheel. “Two thousand dollars a month.”
Another shock jolted Liam’s system. “You paid that cocksucker for six months, until she turned eighteen?”
“No. I’ve paid him for over six years,” Hammer replied flatly.
“Hang on a bloody minute. That’s nearly one hundred fifty thousand dollars!”
“Yes, and I’m sure he’s done nothing but drink it away.”
“Why the hell are you still paying him? Raine became a legal adult years ago.”
“Because I was determined to protect her, and that was the only way I could guarantee Bill would fucking leave her in peace.”
Fuck all. Part of him reeled with the extent his pal had gone to protect the woman he loved—even before he knew he loved her. How could Liam not admire Hammer for the care and protection he’d shown Raine so unselfishly for so long? And what did that say about the man’s devotion to her?
“I understand you can’t be watching her ‘round the clock. But you’ve got me to help protect her now. Between the two of us, we can make sure he never gets close to her again.”
Hammer didn’t say a word, just glanced Liam’s way, his expression considering. “I’d never want to risk her, but… maybe you’re right.”
“I am.” Liam slammed a fist into the passenger door. “I just hate that the bastard is still breathing.”
“Yes, but Raine is, too. So the money I’ve paid him has been worth it.”
“Does she know any of this?” Liam suspected he knew the answer.
“Not a fucking thing, and it’s better if she doesn’t. You need to keep this secret. If not for me, then for her.”
Liam didn’t like it and wondered if this confidence would come back to bite them both in the ass, but he saw Hammer’s point. Raine’s pride would sting. “Fine.”
Finally, Hammer pulled to a stop in front of a two-story Craftsman-style home in a well-manicured neighborhood. Liam looked out the window. Everything looked so normal, so average. Everyone with their two newish cars and two point two kids. Looking around, he’d never think the people living here had anything more interesting to do than watch the lush grass grow. But Liam knew a brute dwelled within.
“Are you ready to meet dear old dad?” Hammer asked in a tone rife with sarcasm.
No. But Liam steeled himself. “As ready as I’ll ever be. I’ll try not to murder him. No promises.”
Hammer gave him a grim laugh. “I’ll keep him busy. You search every fucking room, closet, and cranny for her. Call out her name in case he’s got her tucked away somewhere. He’d probably have her gagged so listen carefully.”
Gagged? Fuck, holding his temper was getting bloody hard. “I will.”
And if she’s being held against her will, forget holding back the urge to slaughter him.
Hammer opened the car door. “Then let’s get this over with.”
“I’m right behind you.” Liam emerged from the car.
Hammer knocked on the door. After a curse and a shuffle, it swung open. Liam got his first look at Raine’s father.
A shock of snow-white hair stood off his scalp. His eyes were bloodshot and lifeless, but a familiar bright blue. The scar Raine had given him bisected one gaunt cheek with a thin white line.
The man was probably pushing sixty, but looked closer to eighty. A bulbous nose, cheeks full of broken capillaries, and a bloated belly showed the ravages of alcohol abuse. Some might have thought him a sweet old man, but Liam wasn’t fooled for a minute.
Bill leaned against the doorframe with a nasty smile. “Well, well. I’m surprised to see you here, Master Pervert. Are you still fucking my daughter?” Then he turned to Liam with a sneer. The old man sized up his designer suit, Italian loafers, and luxury watch. Dollar signs cha-chinged in his gleeful gaze. “You banging her, too?”
