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"Where the hell are you going?"
"I need to see James. I need some motherfucking answers." I cry out in pain once again, reaching out to steady myself on the nightstand. My knuckles are a fucking mess, and almost my entire arm is covered in blood.
"Who was that guy?"
"No idea, but he was out for you. If we didn't get there when we did I've got a feeling he wouldn't have stopped after you passed out."
"Brilliant," I mutter, putting my focus back to standing but once again failing miserably.
"For fuck's sake. Get back in bed and I'll get James to come to you. You look fucking pathetic right now."
"Thanks for the sympathy."
"You get none. You did this to yourself. You're a selfish cunt. What if she needs you? You can’t even fucking walk."
"Would help if we knew where she was, eh?"
He mutters something as he walks out of my bedroom, promising to bring Dad back with him.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Kennedy
“Stop, please make it stop,” I cry as I watch the huge muscular guy drive his fist into Conner’s face. Screwing my eyes shut, I try to force out the images, but Warren tightens his grip in my hair, forcing me to watch the computer screen he dragged me to less than thirty minutes ago.
I didn’t need him to tell me it was a feed of fight night. I recognized it for what it was the second Conner appeared on the screen.
I have no idea if it’s a live feed or recording, but it doesn’t matter. Because it’s still real. Conner fought that hulk of a guy... and he lost.
As a couple of guys drag his lifeless body out of the makeshift ring, bile washes in my stomach.
“W-why?” I sob. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I can,” he sneers. “Because that is far less than Conner deserves, than they all deserve. But you’re the key, baby. When I end you, it’ll ruin Jagger. There will be no stopping him. He’ll either end up dead in that ring or he’ll off himself with a bottle of whiskey and a little trip to the ocean. Losing you will tip him right over the edge. But not before he rips apart his family.”
Warren moves around me and crouches. “Conner will never forgive James. When he loses you, it will tear them apart.”
“Oh God,” I whimper, thrashing against my restraints. Warren has me tied to the chair at my wrists and ankles. But it’s futile; I’m weak. Growing weaker every hour that passes. My stomach aches, desperate for real sustenance, and my mouth is dry and sore. The air in the warehouse is heavy with dust and debris, making my lungs burn every time I inhale.
I think I knew the second Warren stuffed me in his trunk that I wasn’t ever getting out of this alive. He’s fallen headfirst into psycho killer territory.
“Did you really think you and Jagger would get your happily ever after? To ride off into the sunset together in that piece of shit camp—"
I gasp. “How do you know about that?”
But it shouldn’t surprise me.
Warren knows everything.
It all makes sense now, the sneaking off at night and constantly being out to take care of
‘stuff.’ He was spying on the Jaggers, watching them, unravelling their plans. I should have known. But it was easier to believe the lie. It was easier to pretend that I would get out of this alive than just roll over and accept my fate.
I should have run.
Back when I first arrived at Sterling Bay, I should have packed a bag and run. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t just abandon Conner. He is my heart, the other half of my soul. Conner is the one good thing in my life, he always has been, and I won’t regret the time we had together. I only regret not telling him about Warren earlier. Maybe then it wouldn’t have gotten to this point.
Maybe someone could have intervened sooner.
