The Sins that Ruin (Obsidian Knights Secret Society #3)

34. Scarlett

THIRTY-FOUR

I think we’re in the outer edges of Bushwick, from what I can decipher from their low muttering in the front seat. Dad has some long-term storage in Bushwick for some clients who want to use a space where they can keep things until needed. Now that the blindfold is off, I recognize some containers with the company logo on them.

Or maybe this is a place a client owns. I don’t know. When they grabbed me, they blindfolded me in the car. I tried to fight, but two big burly men aren’t people I can easily overtake.

“Do you know where we are?” I whisper.

Amelia shakes her head. “No. He didn’t say. Just put me here.”

“He?” I give her a look. Amelia knows something. She’s scared but she’s not talking.

I take a breath. “You can tell me anything, you know that, right?”’

“Scarlett…”

I wait, but she doesn’t finish.

“You can tell me. Anything.”

“I know.” She looks at me, tears staining her face and her clothes… it breaks my heart. They’re dirty, torn.

And there are hand marks on her arms. A bruise on her mouth like someone hit her.

“Who…?” I stop. I can’t call anyone. They took my gun and my phone.

Those fucking thugs laughed at me, moving with violent purpose and glints in their eyes. They laughed at the empty gun they pulled out of my handbag.

But they didn’t go through everything. Not the makeup bag I threw in there. And they didn’t look in the zippered compartments.

They did take my wallet, so if I escaped, I wouldn’t be able to get far. There’s a door at the back of the room, but it’s locked and… shit. I force myself to breathe.

I know it was beyond stupid taking off, but I planned to sacrifice myself for Amelia.

And—and Lacey has the details.

Best of all, she has Malone’s number. I made sure to jot it down in a note before I left her apartment.

Amelia gives a little sob and I lower myself to my knees in front of her.

“I’m scared, Scarlett. You shouldn’t have come.”

“Amy,” I say as I hug my cousin, “Malone’s going to rescue us, I know it.”

She nods but doesn’t respond, and I wipe her tear-stained face. Something has her so spooked, so scared, and she’s not telling me what it is. It sets off a terrible beat of dull pain in me.

But I don’t have time to give in to panic, to pain, to fear. Fuck fear.

“Amy, there’s a Swiss army knife in my bag.” It pretty much lives in my bag; it’s such a permanent fixture in the side pocket that I never think about it.

Hardly ever, anyway.

“And a cake tester. My special scissors, too.” I scramble through the bag and press the knife and the cake tester into her hand.

She shakes her head. “I can’t.”

I pick up the tester and I give that back. “This one, at least, Amy.”

“I can’t.”

“You can.” I take the knife and palm it. “You can.”

“Scarlett, you don’t get it.”

But I don’t have time for her fear. I know Amelia. She’ll run if we get that opportunity. I know that. She’s strong and tenacious, and I can’t let myself even speculate why she’s so frightened and shattered. If they touched her…

“Get ready in case we need to run,” I say, squeezing her shoulder.

Then I get up and stalk over to the door, banging on it. “Hello? Hey! If you don’t open this fucking door, I’ll scream the place down.”

A bolt scrapes. The door opens a crack. “Scream all you want. You’re not getting out.

Then the door swings open and someone’s shoved in against me. The door slams shut.

Panic takes me over as I grab the man and stumble to the ground with him. “Dad!”

He’s unconscious. His hands are bound, and there’s tape over his mouth. With shaking fingers that are pure ice, I pull off the tape. And I try to free his hands, but they’re cuffed. With actual handcuffs.

“Dad?” Tears burn my eyes and I lean down as I feel for his pulse.

He’s breathing and the blood pounds past my fingertips in slow, even pulses.

“I think… I think he’s drugged.”

I smack his stubbly face. But he doesn’t wake up.

A small sob escapes my mouth.

But I press my lips together and swallow over the burning lump in my throat. I squeeze my eyes hard against the blur of tears. This is not the time to cry.

“Amy? Amy!” I whip around and face her. “Help me.”

She rises and drops the cake tester, which is probably a stupid weapon, but it’s thin and pointy, and aimed at the right place, it could cause pain. If there was someone to hurt. If those weak bastards out there came in.

Shit.

“Help me move him.”

Together we drag Dad over to where we’re sitting, and I look at her.

“Are you ready to talk?”

“I don’t know what’s going on, Scarlett. Just… my dad…” She closes her eyes and gives a sob. “He made me leave with him and then… then someone took me and…” Her gaze hits mine. Her voice drops to a whisper. “What if Dad did this?”

“Why would Uncle Grant kidnap you? He’s worried, panicked. He’s got Malone looking for you.”

Oh hell, what if the kidnappers forced Grant to lead Amelia out? It’s a horrible thought because there are so many things that that says about my uncle. Damning things.

Like it means he put himself first.

The way he did when he manipulated me into Malone’s clutches.

But Amelia’s his kid.

I swallow.

Hard.

“This door…” I jump up. “Watch Dad and watch the other one for me. If they come in, let me know.”

“Okay,” she whispers.

There’s a lock, and when I turn the handle, it pulls a little. So it’s locked on the other side?

I’m about to try using the screwdriver part of my knife when the other door scrapes and Amelia makes a sound.

I spin.

“There’s no way out, Scarlett,” a man says.

“You.”

It’s the voice from the club. The voice I heard with Uncle Grant.

And the man who watched me and sent me a drink at the poker game.

He smiles. “Me.”

“What do you want with us? Let Amelia go.”

“Why would I do that? She’ll go to the cops. Or worse, that boyfriend you like to play nasty games with. Don’t you know he’s dangerous. Gunrunner, crime lord, a man who owns a sex club.”

He walks over to me as the door slams shut behind him. “Where’s the fucking client list? There’s a shipment I’m interested in intercepting. But I need the list to work out the damn code. And your uncle doesn’t have that code.” He grabs me by the throat hard and squeezes.

Sheer burning fear streaks through me. This isn’t like when Malone grabs me.

And this man’s hurting me. I can’t breathe, and he lifts me off the floor. I scramble in his grip. Then I remember the knife. I pop it open and try to slice him, but he punches me and throws me across the floor. I land hard on the ground, a wave of sick pain rushing over my flesh, from hands to knees and my cheek.

“Cunt!”

Amelia rushes to me. “Scarlett, are you okay?”

I wheeze and try and speak, but words don’t come.

“Give me the fucking list and the code. Your fucking father won’t.”

“Even if I had it,” I say, pushing the words out, “I’d never give it to you. And my boyfriend—my fiancé—is going to kill you where you stand.”

He’s not officially that at all, but I think Malone will incinerate this man for touching me. For hurting Amelia. With every fiber of my being, I believe that.

“He’s going down for this. You know I make films? Then I sell off the girl to the highest bidder. Sometimes I sell the girl and let the buyer star in the film with her. It’s never nice for the girl. Amelia here’s the perfect fucking age. Are you a virgin, bitch?” Then he shakes his head. “We’ll just tell them you are… Amelia, right?”

I grab the cake tester and push myself to my feet and run at him, jamming it into his side. He yells and punches me again, knocking me down. Then he slams a foot down on me, on my face. Pain rings through me. For a few moments I can’t hear a thing, just pain.

Who knew you can hear pain? Feel it. Taste it along with the copper taste of blood in my mouth.

“You cunt, you’re too old for those films, but you’ll make a good punching bag. Some men like to beat the fuck out of the female they rape. Sometimes turn it into snuff. That’s fine by me, more money. But I want those list details.”

He lifts his foot and I try and get up. I fall. Behind me, Dad groans.

“Perfect fucking timing.” Then the man raises his voice. “He’s waking up.”

The door opens again, and I look up and almost fall again when shock assaults me.

“Uncle Grant?”

He gives me a cold look and doesn’t even glance at Amelia.

“I’ve tried,” he says, crouching down to grab me by the hair and yank my face back to look at him. “But it’s finally time for me to take over. The story’s going to be that you and your father died tragically, and the stupid bitch there… she ran off. But first, I need everything you have.”

“I don’t—” I stare at him. “Stupid bitch? Amelia’s your daughter. I’m your niece.”

“No, you’re the product of the fucker who’s supposed to be my brother.”

My head is swimming with splintered thoughts, and I think I must’ve really slammed it hard on the floor when that other asshole threw me. “He is your brother.”

“He had an affair with my wife. And Amelia is that product. For years I raised his bitch of a daughter. Even had a birth certificate I thought was real. Until I had to get the certified copy of the original for her passport.” He narrows his eyes and flings me away. “So I don’t care. Not about you or your father or her.”

Amelia moans and sobs and I… I want to smash my fist against my uncle’s face for his cruelty.

“She’s still your daughter. You raised her.” I try to get up, but he shoves me back to the floor.

“So fucking what? The best part is, in an hour your JM is coming through that door, with the list he’s found.” He shakes his head, laughing. “He’s easy to manipulate. All the thugs are. Texted to say he has it. When he turns up? He’ll be pinned with everything. And I’ll own the entire company. Along with whatever I can get from him while we make him beg.”

I stare at my uncle. “You think you can make him beg?”

“I’ve got what he wants. You. So yes, he’s going down.”