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“Because the asshole owed me, and next thing I know he’s telling me she’s done a fucking runner. I believed that bastard, too, until recently.”
Isiah raised his brow, he was curious, believing my story.
“Romeo helped me hunt him down, finally,” I continued. “Was sick of him getting away with shit, undercutting my business, and living life like he was a fucking king. So before I blew the bastard up, he admitted he’d sold her to you before I could get to her. Wanted to make some money out of her rather than just give her up for free.”
He looked down at the photo again, as if lost in it for a moment.
Romeo was a mask of relaxation, but his eyes watched Isiah like a fucking hawk.
“She was offered to me anonymously,” Isiah finally spoke up, and I tried not to flinch when I realized we’d gotten it right. “It was an online bid. I won. Transferred the money. Got an address. I sent someone to pick her up, but the buyer wasn’t there. Just this girl, in the boot of a car.”
I rolled my shoulders, making sure to be obvious about it. As far as he was concerned, I wanted this bitch. I felt like I deserved this bitch and that I was cheated.
He obviously had no idea who she was. Or who had sold her to him.
“You know where she is or not?” Isiah stared back at me, moving his jaw back and forth. “I don’t give a shit what you want for her, I’ll fucking pay it. I just want what belongs to me.”
It was hard to tell what was going on in his head. I didn’t know if he knew where she was and was just trying to squeeze me for whatever I fucking had, or if he was wondering how he could do this and make money out of it by screwing me over. The way his eyes often moved to Romeo told me that he was taking my brother’s place in this into consideration. There was a certain level of respect there which I was trying to ignore.
I didn’t want to know what Romeo had done to earn that kind of shit from a man like him.
A man who basically had no boundaries or hard limits.
“I will look into it,” Isiah finally admitted before throwing back the last bit of scotch in his glass and holding it up for someone to refill. The look in his eyes was deep and intense and slowly began to transform into a smile which pulled at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t suppose I could interest you in buying something else?”
I shrugged casually. “I could be tempted… but only if you deliver the girl.”
The sparkle in his eye disturbed me. He quickly reached for a remote which was situated on the small glass top side table to his right. With one press of a button, things on the wall across from us began to shift and move. Two panels slid back to reveal a television.
“I always deliver, Mr. Cooper, don’t you worry about that. So how about we take a look through the club, and you can tell me what you might like.”
I didn’t fucking like this. So I looked over at Romeo, ready to get the fuck out of there.
I didn’t want to point out any girls, knowing they would most likely be this predator’s next targets. The gleeful way his face lit up at the prospect of picking out some girl from a crowd like they were just cattle and I’m looking for a good rump steak, had my temper flaring.
“Personally, I’ve had my eyes on the two in the corner at the bar,” Isiah leered, just short of licking his lips like he was eyeing up a juicy steak. “The short one especially. A lot of men would go for her. You know the type, the child fetish thing they have going on.”
I don’t think I’d ever wanted to kill a man more in my life than I did in that moment.
“While we appreciate it, I need to get Cooper to the airport,” Romeo interrupted, placing his untouched drink down on the coffee table in front of us and getting to his feet. “He flew in especially to meet with you, but his men will start to get a little itchy if I don’t deliver him back to his jet soon.”
The way Romeo spoke it was like I almost believed what he was saying, and I knew it was a fucking lie. He never faltered or wavered, his tone always so flat, so sure. But just as I was getting to my feet and placing my drink down, I saw a look on his face that definitely wasn’t controlled. It was only a second. A brief flash of shock. Then it was gone.
I wasn’t sure if Isiah had seen it, but I couldn’t help but follow my brothers gaze, wondering what it was that would make him break his strong exterior and essentially look like what I could only describe as… scared.
The television on the wall was separated into nine different screens. Each one focused on a different part of Isiah’s club downstairs. Everything looked normal, like just any other club—one that didn’t prey on young women. But when my eyes reached the bottom corner, my heart dropped, and I clenched my fist, ready to fucking fight my way out of here.
She wasn’t in Arizona at school.
She was in Isiah’s fucking club.
Meyah.
Yeah, my fucking Meyah.
