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Rage swirls through me, and I clench my fists tightly. The overwhelming urge to destroy this room and the next sinks its claws into my mind. He tied her up and put tape over her mouth. He touched her, hurt her. Though the pain is enough to make my chest burn, I force myself to watch the video again. That's the least I can do for my little bird. She's suffering because of me—I can be strong and witness this again.
Seeing her lying helpless on a thin, filthy mattress sets off a screaming in my head. Bile rises up my throat, but I force myself to study her, to memorize every bit of what's been captured. She's in the same work clothes she wore after leaving the house yesterday, and they seem to be in one piece. No tears or anything like that. A promising sign—they haven't roughed her up.
There's no bruising on her legs, either, and thank God for that. No blood, no scratches. Jack must have convinced his men to keep their hands off her. I'm not stupid enough to think that will last forever, which only intensifies the screaming in my head until I can hardly hear myself think.
He goes in close on her face, the asshole, ensuring I get a good look as she starts to cry. There's a lump in my throat that threatens to choke me, but I continue watching, tracing the path of her tears as they cut down her cheeks, leaving mascara streaks behind—a face that's too red, and not from emotion. There's what looks like a handprint on her right cheek.
So they haven't left her entirely untouched. It's been one hour since the video was sent. I can only fathom what they could be doing to her now. My brain conjures up all kinds of thoughts and images that I can't stomach.Think, damn it. The most important thing is that I don't lose my cool. I cannot fracture right now. Forget what I suspect or fear.What do I know?I know it was Jack Moroni who made the video—he didn't bother trying to disguise his voice, but then why would he? This wasn't going to be a secret forever. Eventually, he planned to reach out to me, as there was no way he did all of this for nothing.
He's a stupid, heartless bastard who isn't stupid enough to take things too far. He'll menace her, make her cry, and rub it in my face, but knowing he was working with Amanda, it means he knows Bianca's pregnant. Which means he knows what's at stake. He hasn't confirmed that, but I can't imagine this being about anything else.
He thinks he's finally found my Achilles' heel; he's not wrong. That alone is what will keep my little bird safe, at least for now. He wouldn't risk her losing the baby, because it would mean losing much of his leverage. Knowing Jack, he wouldn't want a sick girl on his hands, either. Not that he'd care, but it would inconvenience him. At the end of the day, he's a businessman. He wouldn't want to risk an expense like that.
All of this weighs heavier and heavier on my shoulders. The door leading from the hall opens, and I expect it to be a doctor or a nurse, but instead, it's one of my own men. “Sorry, boss. I, uh, wanted to bring the phones over for Romero. He said he wanted to take a look at them.”
The way Nathan's eyes dart around the suite, it's clear he's not sure how much he can get away with saying.
“We're alone,” I confirm. “I thought somebody would've brought them over by now.” What a blur it's been. I barely know which way is up or who's coming and going.
“Sorry, we've been pretty busy,” he explains. “They left a real mess back there, although we got it cleaned up.” I'm sure the memory of having his nose broken when he mouthed off to me is a lot of the reason why he seems so hesitant now.
“This type of thing would've been much more useful yesterday.” He doesn't need to explain it to me. Normally, Romero would have reminded someone that he gave an order which hadn't yet been obeyed.This is not a normal situation. Even when I told him to go home and shower, he refused to move from Tatum's side.
“I'm supposed to protect her. I already failed her once. I won't leave her again.”That was his only explanation, and I didn't ask for more. At the heart of it, we're a lot alike. That's probably why we work so well together—and why it's so easy for him to push my buttons.
“Can I...” Nathan gestures toward Tatum's room, looking pained as he hesitates before opening the glass door leading inside.
“Go ahead, go in and give them to him.”
Nathan's engaged in quiet conversation with Romero on the other side of the glass when the door to the suite opens again, and this time it's Charlie. I told him to go home and stay there and that I'd update him when I had more information. Clearly, he doesn't care what I have to say.
Instantly, my stomach sinks. He doesn't know about the video, and I don't plan to show it to him. It would kill him to see her that way—it nearly killed me. He might not be my favorite person, but we're both fathers. I would hope he'd grant me the same courtesy if it was Tatum being held by a fucking maniac.
“Any news?”
It's a good thing lying comes so naturally to me. “No. Nothing's changed, though we're closer to narrowing down our list of suspects. One of my guys brought the phones from the warehouse in, and I'm hoping we'll find a little more information on one of them. I told you I'd call you if I had any news.”
“I don't take orders from you.” He grumbles, “And how is Tatum?” He goes to the door, his shoulders slumping further when he finds her condition unchanged.
“The doctor is confident she'll be fine. She just has a lot of healing to do and is tired from all the meds and the concussion. She did manage to stay awake for a minute or two but passed out again pretty quick.”
“That can happen sometimes,” he murmurs, watching her through the glass door. “Back in the day, when I was working cases, we sometimes had a victim like that. We'd need to talk to them, but they couldn't stay conscious long enough to talk. It's sort of the brain's way of escaping reality—that's what the doctor told me once.”
“She's definitely seen enough to make anybody want to escape.” My poor girl. How will I ever make this up to her? It would take the rest of my life, every single day, and even then, I doubt it would be enough. I'll never forgive myself, and I wouldn't blame her if she never forgives me for leaving her vulnerable to the darkest aspects of my world.
We both step aside when Nathan leaves Romero alone again. He nods briefly to Charlie and me. “I better get back to the house.”
“Yeah, keep your phone on you and contact me immediately if anything changes.” He gives me a nod and disappears out of the room.
“How many people do you have on this?” Charlie asks once we're alone again.
“Every man I have employed, plus all of Romero's contacts—which means half the city.”
“And nobody's found anything?”
Again, my thoughts go back to the video. “I have reason to believe Jack Moroni is the man behind this.”
“Yes, the name sounds familiar. You used his name before when you were trying to narrow the list down.”
