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“The fuck is that supposed to mean? You can’t tell me, or you won’t tell me?” There was a twinge of hurt lacing his voice.
“I can’t answer the questions about my family, not just yet. When Phee wakes, maybe I will then, but as of right now, just trust me when I say ignorance is bliss,” I told him, attempting to placate him for just a little while. It was the one thing about all of this that I hated most, the fact that I could never tell anyone that my family members were trained killers. In the more questionable circles of society, we were referred to as the Lennox Family Mafia.
“Okay…” not sounding convinced with my answer, Jonah moved to the next question burning a hole in his brain. “What about Logan’s?”
“That one I can answer.” Walking back over to the monitors on the wall, I pointed to the one with Kyle, the tattoo on the left side of his back on clear display. Pointing to it, I continued. “See that tattoo? It belongs to the Lords of Salem, a depraved secret society. Logan’s father, his uncle, and by the looks of it, Kyle, are all members. From what I know, they take women, break them, and use them in dungeons for pleasure. They keep them as pets and pimp them out to be used by creepy old fucks. Many are sold to the highest bidder. The average age of their girls is eighteen.”
“So what do you think he wanted with Phee?” He pointed at Kyle in the monitors as well, curiosity getting the best of him. Until the clip we had just watched, I’d assumed it had been some sort of sick fixation, though whether it was solely about my Firecracker, I just didn’t know.
“I’m guessing, from what he just said, he had planned to make her his wife.” Saying my thoughts out loud, the answer didn’t sit well with me, though; the explanation was too simple, too clean. The reasons for wanting her so badly weren’t clear, but I could guess that they were darker than anyone imagined. “There has to be more to it than that, though.”
“It doesn’t sound like a secret society to me. More like some sort of crime syndicate—we’re talking sex slavery, Stryker,” Jonah said as he ran his hand over his face, his eyes closed in frustration.
“That’s essentially what it has turned into. It used to be a way for the old boys to do business deals, help their kids find jobs and sometimes marry them off. I guess, over the last few years, since the Ducanes took the reins, they turned it into what it is now. Those that were against them either left, or worse.” Filling in the blanks, I watched as Jonah took in everything I was saying, eating it up like it was a breakfast buffet.
“And where does Logan fit into all this?” Jonah asked. I understood his need to know. Luckily for my former best friend, I knew the answer to that too. When my dad had found out who Logan’s family was, he’d had me look into Logan’s role.
“This is where it takes a twist, J’. Unlike Kyle, Logan hasn’t been brought into the society yet.” I had been doing my research on it for a while. When I’d linked the tattoo, I had needed to know everything. “I don’t know why, but he doesn’t even know about any of this yet. And considering how they kept the whole Kyle thing secret from him, it isn’t a far stretch to believe that he would be in the dark about this as well .”
“Don’t think for a minute I forgot about your family, Stry, because whether you like it or not, you will be coming clean with me,” he said, seemingly skimming over what I had told him.
Turning back to the laptop, I pointed to another file. “This one next.” I knew by the look on his face that Jonah wouldn’t be dropping the subject anytime soon; I just needed time to figure out how to lay it all out there for him.
Chapter Ten - Jonah
The last few days had been filled with one bombshell after another. Ever since Logan had come running out of that fucking bunker with Phee in his arms, everything I’d ever knownabout this seaside town we lived in had been blown to kingdom come. I didn’t think anything could shock me after hearing Logan’s cousin was the one behind my Angel’s kidnapping.
Looking around her room, it was like a florist had decided to open up shop. Every time Stryker or Logan came back, they brought flowers. A lot of flowers. I, on the other hand, had been playing music for her, hoping it would draw her out of her slumber. We were all still hanging on a knife’s edge. Every so often, her face would twitch, her fingers move, or she would moan, and each time we would jump up, surrounding her, thinking she was going to wake.
“Angel, I hope you wake up soon,” I whispered against her tiny hand, placing a soft kiss across her knuckles. I hated seeing her so banged up.
It worried me, too. After seeing what was in those files we’d taken from that bunker, I’d had a hard time coming to terms. It took me ages to talk Stryker down off the ledge. He’d wanted to put a bullet between Kyle’s eyes after watching the video footage. I couldn’t let that happen. As much as I wanted nothing more than to end his sorry existence, I doubt Phee would forgive us if we took away the opportunity to face her monster.
“I miss you, Phee. I need my dance partner back.” Reaching up, I swept a strand of hair away from her eyes. Every day, one of us would make sure her hair was brushed and tied back. Small things, to make her comfortable. Something deep inside told me that when she came to, nothing would be the same.
She was going to need us all to help her with what lay ahead. Most of the bruises had faded, and the swelling had started to go down. She had stitches above her right eye; I was thankful that they sat in the brow line. The doctors said the mark on her left shoulder would scar, leaving her with a constant reminder that evil had once more paid her a visit. After all that , though, none of us could leave her alone for very long.
Stryker had told me back at the warehouse that he wanted to bring in his cousin to help Phee recover. According to him, she had been through something similar, and at the hands of the same organization. He thought she could help Phee through all of it. It gave me hope that maybe he was right, had me thinking about who I might be able to bring on board to help.
The dance crew had been messaging nonstop since word got out. Cali and Luca the most. Cali’s past wasn’t as colorful as Luca’s. Her trauma was having watched her father continuously beat on her mom. It was why she always jumped in to diffuse anything before it led to violence. But it was Luca that I was leaning more towards. Her past was tragic, darker than Cali’s. Drug addict parents that had used her to get their hits. As quiet as she was, Luca would probably understand how Phee felt.
As the nurses came in to check my Angel over, I took the opportunity to get up and stretch. Being there most of the day had given me time to scour the dark web for information. As I picked up and opened my laptop again, I stared at the screen. I knew everyone wrote me off when it came to the physical side of things, mostly because they believed I always toed the line, but I had my own secrets, skills that could help us.
This so-called secret society shielded a number of shady characters, and sitting at the helm were the Ducanes. I couldn’t get over the fact that they were still keeping Logan in the dark. Something told me there was more to that. I needed to know more, but was sworn to silence until Logan found out the whole truth. It was something I didn’t wish upon him.
I had used my computer skills to dig up as much as I could on the Ducanes, and what I found wasn’t pretty. Of course, the stuff I found wasn’t anything you’d find in the normal searches; no, it was deeper in the underbelly of the net. The seedy, unsavory pits of hell lay in wait. The stuff I found out was either going to crush Logan, or fuel the need for vengeance he was already harboring.
As much as I wanted to hate the guy, Logan had spent more time at her bedside than any of us. If he wasn’t forced to leave, I think he‘d just have moved right on in. It took us two days to pry him from her side, and it was only because we told him he needed to shower and get a proper night’s sleep that he left at all. I doubt he got much sleep. Every time he was at the hospital , he had his nose in that damn journal. The more he read the fucking thing, the more he distanced himself from his family.
I felt sorry for him. He had gone to the cabin that day to apologize and start the process of rebuilding their relationship; then, she was taken. God knew he blamed himself more than anyone for what had happened to her. For what his cousin had done to her. They were going to need each other when everything was said and done.
The poor guy didn’t know his father played a bigger part in it. The full extent of that old fucker’s involvement was still in question. From watching the files, we knew he had offered to buy Phee three times that week. He had also been in that viewing room on a daily fucking basis. Sometimes, he was there by himself. Sometimes with other men, and there was one day he’d brought a young girl with him. The things he did to her while he watched my Angel fucking creeped us all out. The guy was just as fucked up as his nephew.
The haunted, vacant look in the girl’s eyes had been heartbreaking. It drew my mind to what my Angel had endured. That shit was a special kind of torture, and the poor girl looked fucking terrified when he had finished. There was a special place in hell for men like that, and knowing what I now knew, I wanted to hand-deliver that man to the devil myself.
If Logan’s family was involved in the sex trafficking trade, then god only knew what Stryker’s family did. Getting answers from Stryker was going to take too long, and asking Logan would raise suspicions. There wasn’t much talk about his family, either. It was widely believed they came from old money, but something he’d said yesterday at the warehouse had me thinking twice about that .
Google searches only threw one or two odd bones at me. Articles that mentioned the Lennox name were few and far between. There were the ones with his cousin, and her rape. Then there was one where someone I assumed was a relative was arrested on suspicion of murder, but reading the article, I couldn’t find the relation between the family and the case.
