Chapter Twenty-One
RIVER
I stand inside the dimly lit room, the heavy silence broken only by the low hum of the air conditioning. Elliot and Jax sit on the opposite sofa, their eyes locked on the door.
We don’t have to wait long before George enters, his confusion mingling with a tinge of arrogance.
“You seem to be in the wrong room,” he sneers, his voice dripping with condescension.
“No, George, we’re exactly where we’re meant to be,” I say, the metallic click of the door lock echoing ominously.
I step forward, looming over him. “Sit down. We need to have a little chat.”
His gaze flits nervously between us, his arrogance faltering as he tries to process the situation.
“What’s the meaning of this?” he demands, though his voice quivers slightly. “Who are you people?”
I lean in, my breath hot against his face. “We’re the people you pissed off when you touched Lily Montgomery.”
Something akin to recognition flickers across his features, and he stumbles back, some of the colour draining from his face. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but this is illegal. ”
I chuckle darkly, the sound low and dangerous. “Illegal? Like assault and attempted rape?”
His eyes dart to the door and back to me, his bravado slipping as sweat breaks his brow.
I shake my head in warning. “I wouldn’t recommend it. Now, sit the fuck down.”
George flinches but obeys.
Jax’s voice cuts through the tension, cold and measured. “I’m going to cut to the chase. You’re going to drop the diminished responsibility plea. We have more than enough evidence to bury you, George. But we’re giving you a chance to take responsibility for your actions.”
George’s laughter is a brittle, nervous sound. “And if I don’t.”
My hand sinks into my pocket, making contact with my switchblade, but Jax’s sharp look keeps me in check. “Then we’ll ensure everyone knows exactly what kind of person you are. I’m sure your wife and daughter won’t survive the fallout of your precious reputation. Isn’t that right, Elliot?”
Elliot nods, his usually warm brown eyes dark and menacing. “I not only have video evidence. I have witness statements from a number of young women prepared to come forward.”
George’s face contorts in defiance. “Are you threatening me?”
“No, it’s a promise,” I snap, my voice a low warning. “And you’ll do well to fucking listen.”
He meets my gaze, unflinching, but there is a tremor in his voice. “Oh, I’m listening. And if I go down, so does Richard. And then what of his stepdaughter’s precious reputation?”
I react on instinct, my switchblade flashing in my hand, and the cold steel presses against his throat—a thin line of blood beads where the sharp blade nicks his skin.
“Explain!” My voice is a warning, dripping with venom, as I pull the knife away .
George’s breath hitches, his hand moving to his throat, fingers probing the small cut, and he gasps. “I’m bleeding. Y-you cut me.”
I roll my eyes. “Hardly. I nicked you. It barely broke the skin. I’ve seen paper cuts that are worse,” I retort, wiping the blade against his trousers, making him flinch. Something that gives me a small semblance of satisfaction.
Elliot moves beside me. “But unless you want to see exactly what River here is capable of doing with a knife, I suggest you explain yourself. Now,” Elliot says, holding out a tissue with an air of finality.
“And then you’ll let me go?” George asks, his voice a desperate whisper.
Jax leans forward, his presence an imposing force of nature. “Well, that depends on you and what you say next.”
I glance at Elliot, who meets my gaze with a silent question. I nod, giving him a signal that I’m in control despite the red haze that threatens to consume me. I keep the knife in my hand, hanging by my side, the weight an anchor of sorts.
A part of me yearns to make this harder on him, to release all the repressed anger boiling beneath the surface.
“Now, what are you saying about Richard?” Jax asks.
George’s eyes widen, a mix of fear and resignation. “For starters, he’s not as strait-laced as he may have led you to believe. Why do you think he was sharing images and videos of his stepdaughter? There are a lot of people who pay a pretty penny for a glimpse of a little heiress like her. Richard is fully aware of everything—who do you think suggested the plea?”
His words buzz in my mind, a storm of anger breaking the surface. Richard has been selling images and videos of Lily.
I drop my knife as my fist connects with his face, each punch echoing a sickening crunch.
“River, calm the fuck down!” Elliot’s arms wrap around me, pulling me back. If it were anyone else, I might have swung at them too.
Breathing heavily, I shake off his hold. “I’m good,” I grunt through gritted teeth.
George wipes at his face with his shirt sleeve, wincing, his eyes wide and fearful.
“I suggest you tell us everything you know and do not leave out a single fucking thing. Do you hear me?” Jax’s voice is dangerous.
When he fails to respond fast enough, Jax’s hand shoots out faster than a viper and grips his throat—hard.
“I said, do you hear me?” His tone has a lethal edge as he squeezes his windpipe.
George’s face contorts with panic as he gasps out, “Yes, yes, I h-hear you.” His voice is barely more than a wheeze.
Appearing satisfied with his response, Jax releases him with a shove and straightens his shirt while waiting for George to right himself in his chair.
“Now, when did you speak to Richard?” Jax demands, his tone sharp.
“I spoke to him a couple of weeks ago when we played golf. That’s when he told me to have my lawyer plead diminished responsibility,” he replies, his voice hoarse.
“And do you know where he is now?” Jax asks.
George tries to stem his bloody nose with the tissue Elliot gave him, but it’s about as helpful as sugar paper, but do I give a fuck? No, seeing him bleed is the only thing keeping me from lashing out again.
“No, I don’t know where he is. Just that no one has been able to reach him.”
Jax cocks a brow. “And who other than you would be trying to reach him?”
He swallows hard. “People, he owes money—a lot of money. ”
His words hang in the air, tension mounting. Jax exchanges a look with Elliot and me before leaning closer.
“How much money are we talking about?” he asks, his voice low.
“Millions,” George says, his eyes darting nervously between us. “Richard is in some deep shit with some very dangerous people.”
I cock a brow and chuckle darkly. “And who do you think we are, Boy Scouts?”
He shakes his head, but winces. “No, but they shoot first and ask questions later.”
A heavy silence falls over the room. Jax’s jaw tightens, and Elliot’s eyes darken more than before.
I step forward, my knife back in my hand, my grip tightening around the handle.
“Are they looking for him?”
George’s face pales even further. “Yes. And if they find him before you do, there’s no telling what they’ll do to him, or anyone connected to him.”
A chilling weight settles over us. He’s tangled up in something much bigger than even we realised.
Jax stands, his eyes dark and calculating. “We need to find him before they do. And George, you’re going to help us.”
George opens his mouth to protest, but a single look from Jax silences him.
“Do you understand?” Jax asks, his voice now a deadly calm.
George nods, fear evident in his eyes. “Yes, I understand.”
“Good,” Elliot says, his voice cutting through the tension. “Because if you don’t or you attempt in any way to double cross us, we’ll make whatever they’re capable of look like child’s play.”
Jax grabs him by his collar and hurls him to his feet.
“Let’s go.”
Without another word, with me in front and Elliot and Jax at my rear, we exit the room and use the discreet hallway to give us access to take us back to the car park.
The gravity of the situation is pressing down on all of us. This is so much darker than just a twisted stepfather. The hunt for Richard is well and truly underway, and failure is not an option.