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“Who’s your consultant?” I ask, still playing catch up on whatever the fuck is going on.
“You know her as Hush. The podcaster from Breaking the Silence.” Bec advises, and my eyes widen.
Hush is the person I sent my story to. The one who aired it in her podcast and TikTok and called Julie out.
“Hush is your consultant?”
“Kind of. The easiest way to explain her connection with us is to throw out the term, consultant.” Amanda grins, and I nod.
Fucking hell. I really think I am in the presence of royalty. Or the mafia. Do we have a mafia in Australia?
“Anyway, we wanted to come and meet you and tell you about some information we just passed on to the police,” Bec advises, glancing at Amanda, who continues.
“Our consultant has some of her own connections with skill sets that come in very handy. She was able to get her hands on the cloud drive that Terence and Victoria Hill used to store all of their recordings. The pre-recorded and live ones.” Amanda gives me a pointed look, but I’m too enthralled to have the wit to keep up with the meaning of her words.
“They have a very vast database of recordings from the illegal sex club they have been running that span a decade. They also have recordings of acts against children which have been linked to copies sold on the dark web. And there is a video that was live streamed from the lodge while they had you captive, which gives the police all the evidence they need to throw Terence Hill in prison for the rest of his life.” Bec’s words slowly sink in, and while part of me is mortified that there is video footage of my rape, the other part of me feels immense relief because, finally, I know this nightmare is over.
“The live video was linked to a site on the dark web,” Amanda adds. “We have a team working with the police to try and locate the viewers that paid a lot of money to watch. Hopefully, it will lead to more arrests and the end of a very big illegal syndicate.”
“Holy shit,” Shaun mutters, and I nod.
“Yeah. What he said.”
“So has that Terence fucker been taken to prison, then?” Marcus snaps, clearly struggling with his emotions, and I glance over to him where he stands with Garrett by the window and I mouth,I love you,when his eyes find mine. His shoulders relax, and he offers me the smallest of grins.
“Not exactly.” Bec glances over at my guys. “His burns are quite bad, so he has been taken to a high-security burns unit in Melbourne, where he is under police guard. As soon as they have him well enough, he will head to his new home in prison.”
“It’s over, Cherry,” Simon whispers in my ear, and I twist in the bed, throwing my arms around him and burying my head in his neck.
It really is over.
Chapter Forty
Tyler
It’s not the annoying beeping, or the pain in my shoulder, or the sledgehammer thumping in my head that wakes me. It’s the sweet scent of Kitten.
My Kitten.
My lids feel heavy as fuck, but I try to open them over and over until the useless bastards kick in and light starts to fill my vision. I can feel the soft press of skin against my shoulder. Not the one that’s throbbing like a bitch, thank fuck. I ease my head to the side, and a head full of long, dark, silky hair comes into view.
“Kitten?”
The body shifts next to me, and big chocolate eyes peer up, darting over my face in surprise.
“Ty.” She whispers right before she bursts into tears.
My heart breaks for her as she comes apart, her cries filled with so much agony that it’s almost unbearable. I ease my good arm around her, tugging her as close as I can before the door creaks open, and Fuckboy’s head appears.
“All good in here?”
I frown but nod and rasp. “Yeah.”
He gives me a smile and a curt nod before closing the door again, leaving me alone with my girl.
“I’m so sorry.” Rhys wails into my neck. “I thought she killed you. I thought you were dead.” She cries even more, the sound causing my own eyes to prickle with hot tears.
“I’m ok, Kitten.” Fuck, my voice sounds like I’m a pack-an-hour smoker.
