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How wrong I’d been.
“Is there any way you can turn this over to the police for investigation...legally?” I asked.
He was shaking his head before I even finished.
“No, but I turned the same information over to Silas over an hour ago. He told me to wait until after we ate to give it to you.” Jack said apologetically.
That was when I noticed that Silas was nowhere to be seen when he’d been there only moments before.
Neither was Dixie. Or Loki. Or Sebastian. Or Kettle. Hell, even Grayson was gone. Grayson was the life of the fucking party. It’d take a minor miracle to get him to leave.
Hell, even the prospects were gone.
“Fuck,” I said in aggravation. “That’s why he handed me his kid. To distract me. Getting more beer my ass.”
Fucking Kettle. Fucking Silas.
They were trying to protect me.
“Well,” I said just before a slow smile started to tilt up the corners of my mouth. “This should be interesting.”
***
Silas
“You can’t come in here!” The old woman screeched in indignation.
I laughed as I continued to walk forward, pushing the old woman out of the way as I went.
I found the husband in the foyer, reading glasses in hand, as he stared at us in shock.
“Get out, now!” He boomed.
I rolled my eyes.
“Here, how about you read this since you have those glasses so handy.” I said, shoving the file folder into his chest.
He looked at me warily, but nonetheless did what I asked, scanning the packet.
His face blanched as he read, going from red, to pale, to white. “Annette,” he gasped. “What did you do?”
Annette looked at him innocently. Or as innocently as one could with blood on her hands.
“What do you mean, darling?” She asked in feigned surprise.
“You told him to rape that young girl?” He yelled, dropping the papers.
They floated to the ground, scattering all over the marble floor, disrupting the pristine condition of the house surrounding us.
“I...I...don’t know what you mean.” She stuttered.
Old man Russo’s hands went to his hair and he looked so utterly lost that I almost felt a twinge of pity for him.
Almost, but not quite.
The man was the one to marry the old bitch. He should’ve known something was off with how the son was acting.
“What,” he cleared his throat. “What do you want me to do?”
