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“Well, there is no time like the present,” Fynn states, “I won’t be going to class until we have our Little Saint back here where she belongs.”
I jerk my head toward my room, “Let’s get to it then.”
Ipull out all theinformation I found as soon as we get in my room, “Jesus, that’s a lot of shit!” Fynn exclaims as he shuffles through the stacks of yearbooks I had delivered from the library and all the newspaper clippings I had delivered to me as well. The one good thing about being in a powerful family is that you have so many people at your beck and call.
“So, I didn’t find much about the years that our fathers went to school here, aside from them being Lords and such, except there is this one incident. A woman who graduated the year before our fathers graduated committed suicide two years after graduating.”
“Huh. Who was this woman, and does it say why? Was there a note left?” Fynn asks as he takes the newspaper clipping I hand to him and reads the article, “Are you fucking serious? Howard, as in Felicia Howard’s mother?”
“Yeah...”
“That may explain why Mrs. Scott acted weird, but how would this fit in with the threatening letters?” Fynn hands me back the clipping and shuffles through more stuff.
“I’m not sure,” I drop the piece of paper and watch as it floats downward, landing on the stack of others, “But I feel like this means something, and I’m not going to stop until I figure it out.”
“Well, we had better get to figuring it out then,” my friend grabs a stack of other newspaper clippings, “I really don’t think I can watch them cut up our girl again. We are the only ones allowed to do that, and this motherfucker should know that.”
I stare at Fynn, knowing that he’s fucked in the head at times, and yes, we have made women bleed together, but other than signing the contract, I never thought about making Kitty Cat bleed much. My cock stirs at the thought, but then I chastise myself for it. First and foremost, we need to bring her home, and then we will see about taking our play dates to another level.
Fynn
Istorm through myfather's office door uptown and find him sitting behind his desk. The fact that he is no longer in his meeting and has yet to call me back has me livid as fuck. It's well after lunchtime, so I'm taking it upon myself to come see him in person.
“What the fuck, Dad? Do you need to hire a new receptionist for not doing her job? I've called twice, leaving messages for you to call me back!”
My father looks at me, annoyed for barging in the way I did, but I don't give a flying fuck, “You need to learn to have patience, Fynn. I can't always drop everything just because my kid calls needing something.” Jakob Morin sits back in his chair and crosses his hands over his chest. My father thinks he is a big deal, and maybe he is, but right now, he's being a dick!
“They took her, Dad! Whoever wrote the threatening letters took Catalina!”
“Yes, I know. Donavan called and informed me of the situation,” he responds.
I stare at my father blankly. He knew, and he still hadn't called me back. He must have known what I was calling for once he talked to Oakley's father. I lose my shit and swipe everything off his desk as I roar with rage. My father may be nice and fit, but I can beat his ass with one hand tied behind my back, and he knows it. Even knowing this, he remains sitting in his chair with a raised eyebrow.
“Are you done throwing your little fit yet?” he asks me, bored.
“Fuck you, Dad! You knew why I was calling and couldn't pick up the goddamn phone and call me back? Does all this mean so little to you that you couldn't care less about what happens to us?”
“I warned you about the threats, did I not? I came to you and told you to watch your backs, didn't I?” My father glares at me as if this is on us, not them.
“Whatever the fuck you guys did back in your day is why this is happening, and you all are just going to sit back and watch as though it's a fucking show? They are cutting her up, Dad!”
“What the fuck do you want us to do, Fynn?”
“We want you all to come clean and fess up to whatever you did to piss this person off!” I yell at him. My hands are fisted at my sides, and I'm trying really hard not to reach over and rip his fucking head off.
“We aren't one hundred percent sure of what they are talking about, and even so, keeping quiet is the best thing to do for our families,” my father states and then sighs, losing some of his steam.
“So what, we let them cut Catalina up piece by fucking piece until she's dead? No, that's not going to happen! If you know something, you need to tell us!”
“We have faith in you boys. It will be easier to clean up after you than if we do it ourselves. Because of the positions we hold, our hands are tied. That is why we are relying on you three.”
Again, I stare at my father in disbelief as I take in everything he says. I reach into my back pocket and pull out the clipping on Felicia's mom's suicide, “Then at least tell me what this is about, and if it could have anything to do with what's going on,” I slam it down on the empty desk and stand back.
My father picks up the thin paper and studies it. A moment later, he sighs and shakes his head, “I'm sorry, but I can't help you. It could have something to do with it, but I really can't say. There was no note left. I remember when she took her life, but nothing much was said about it.”
“Unbelievable! Fine,” I snatch the clipping back and tuck it away again, “If you won't tell us anything, I'm sure Mr. Scott will. I doubt he will keep information to himself when his daughter is being tortured!” I turn and head for the door, but my father's words stop me.
“Don't count on it, Fynn. If this does have something to do with what happened back when we were Lords, we are sworn to secrecy. You can look into it all you like, but we cannot say a word about anything that happened.”
