Chapter 53
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
KILLIAN
Istand in the doorway, watching Knox fuck her from behind while Carter fucks her mouth, and I’d like to say I don’t like the way she looks.
But she’s fucking stunning.
The more tangled up in us she becomes, the more I worry. It’s becoming clear neither of them will willingly let her go. It’s going to take drastic measures. I’m still waiting on a call back from my police officer buddy. It’s been over a month, and I haven’t heard a goddamn word from him.
This woman has all three of us fucked in the head, myself included.
Stop watching and walk away, Killian.
I want to, but I can’t.
She is a fucking temptress, the way she takes both of my brothers, and now with the way she’s looking at me, I know she wants more.
They rise to their feet, as I continue watching them move like a well choreographed stage production.
Knox takes her hands and places them around his neck, while Carter comes up behind her, kissing her neck softly.
She moans quietly as he drags his tongue over her shoulder blade.
Pressing his lips to hers, Knox kisses her, slow at first, until it’s clear he needs her as much as she needs him.
Pulling back, he presses his hand to her face as he groans “Tesoro,” his voice coming out thick and filled with emotion.
They move like their bodies are extensions of each other—so in sync—as if they’ve known her for years.
Even if I wanted this girl around, this is something I’d never have with her.
The way she is with them is not for me. The thought of being this wrapped up in a woman does not appeal to me.
Women are a distraction when you keep them around for longer than one night.
Now, on top of all of the shit with Heather, we have to deal with fucking Morte.
If we aren’t careful, we could all die. My brothers are so lost in this chick, they don’t seem to realize the danger we are all in.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, forcing me to look away and walk down the hallway. I answer, knowing it’s Jack, who I’ve had conducting surveillance on her family for well over a week.
“Talk to me,” I say as I answer.
He speaks low, like he wants to make sure his voice isn’t heard.
“I found the Prophet.”
Thank fuck. Maybe if she gets her revenge on the man responsible for her damage, she’ll go away.
“Where is he?”
A text message alert comes through on my phone, and I open it to find a picture that I really wish he had not fucking sent. It’s a man in his fifties, fucking a goddamn child.
“Jack, I didn’t need to fucking see that. Don’t send me that disgusting shit.”
Jack is a machine—nothing fazes him. He has been working for us for years and never shows emotion. It’s one of the reasons he’s my favorite employee.
“You needed to see it, Kill. This place is a non-stop pedophile orgy. If you don’t do something soon, I will,” his voice breaks at the end of his sentence, and for the first-time ever, I wonder if a job is too much for him.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“No,” he whisper-shouts, “I’m not okay. I have three little sisters, and watching this shit is hard. Your girlfriend needs to speed this shit up. There are far too many of these pigs still alive.”
I sigh audibly as I try to get the picture out of my mind.
“You should’ve called sooner. I’ll text you our plan.”
I disconnect the call, and walk back to the lounge.
Clearing my throat, I say, “The Prophet has been located.”
They break away from each other, and I watch Heather get dressed, while Knox and Carter pull their boxers on.
“How did you find him?”
I take a seat on the sofa and she sits beside me, eager for information.
“I’ve had someone watching them, inside and outside. He spotted your-”
A pained expression crosses her face, and I change my choice of words.
“He spotted the Prophet, and sent me a picture.”
Knox sits beside her, while Carter takes a seat in the chair across from us.
“Can I see it?” Heather asks, and my first thought is to bark out a no, because no one needs to see this. Especially not her. I can only assume she knows the girl in the photograph.
I glance at Knox, and he nods his head, but he hasn’t seen the picture. I don’t think I’d want to see this if it were my family. Hell, I don’t want to see it, and it’s not my damn family. If I knew the people in the photograph, it would be so much worse.
“The photo is of the Prophet with a little girl. It’s graphic, and I don’t know that you need to see it.”
Rising to her feet, she stands in front of me and places her hands on her hips, with a scowl on her face.
“Show me the picture, Killian. I have every right to see who it is.”
I pull my phone out and hand it to her.
“It’s your eyes, Killer.”
She grips my phone in her hand tightly, as she stares at the image on the screen. Her knees buckle, as if her weight is too much to bear, and falls to the ground, never taking her eyes off my phone.
“I don’t understand. S-She hasn’t had a period yet. Delilah is only five. I don’t understand.”
Her voice is low and broken. This isn’t the annoying woman that put snakes in my bed.
It’s not the same person that’s a near constant fucking temptation.
The woman in front of me is a damaged little girl, and I’ve never seen her like this.
It’s like I’m meeting her for the first time.
I glance at Carter, and finally feel like I understand them a little more.
They’re trauma bonded. While they don’t share the same exact background, it’s close enough—two children, fucked up by the people that should have protected them.
Knox moves to sit on the floor beside her and pulls her into his arms. Taking the phone from her hands, he tosses it to me as he speaks low, his words only meant for her.
“We’re going to get him, Tesoro. You’ll put a stop to this.
Use the photo to fuel your anger for him, but don’t let it destroy you.
If you let him hurt you, he wins.” Knox strokes her hair and lifts his head to meet my gaze.
His eyes burn with the same fire as I see in Carter’s, the same fire I feel sparking to life in my gut.
One I desperately need to extinguish before it consumes me as it has my brothers.