27. Royce
27
ROYCE
“ R ogue?” Riley questions in confusion when she notices the neon pink sign above the club door before Logan navigates the SUV into an alley that runs up the side of the building. “Eh, you realize we can’t go clubbing with a kid, right?”
My gaze flicks down to where Aurora is passed out in her booster seat.
“We’re not exactly here to grind on you on the dance floor,” Logan retorts with a wag of his eyebrows.
Riley swats his shoulder, and I’m thankful the lack of light in the alley means none of them see my smile. It’s only been one day, but already Riley is more relaxed. She smiles and laughs more. It’s fascinating to watch.
“What are we doing here then?” She glances warily around the alley, and considering we have Aurora in the car, I can’t blame her, but she’s safe here. Dax wouldn’t dare let anything happen to one of us outside his own club.
“Dax owns the building,” I explain to her.
She arches a brow. “Ooookay… Good for him.”
That sarcasm. Makes me want to bend her over and fuck the attitude out of her until she’s begging for me to let her come. She must see the feral intent on my face because her cheeks blush—something I notice despite the poor lighting.
“ So , it’s suitable for more than getting drunk and dancing to shitty music…”
I stare at her intently, but it’s Grayson who spells it out. “Say, like having a little tête-à-tête with your dear mother.”
Riley’s eyebrows hit her hairline, her focus moving to the back of the club as she runs her tongue along her lower lip. “She’s in there?”
“Yup.” Her eyes snap to mine. “It’s up to you whether you want to go in there. You can sit out here, or Logan can drive you both home if you want to leave it to us.”
She mulls it over, her focus shifting back to the building before dropping to stare at Aurora’s sleeping face. “Dax’s men will be out here, watching her and the car. If she so much as stirs, they know they’re to get one of us immediately,” I tell her, in case that’s what’s holding her back.
Thinking about it for a moment longer, she eventually gives a slow, steady nod. Her eyes lift to mine. I see the determination blazing in their hazel depths before she says a word. “I want to do this.” She rolls her shoulders as if preparing for a fight. The action is cuter than it has any right to be. “I have a few things I need to get off my chest when it comes to that woman, and when I’m done, I don’t want to think about her ever again.”
There’s my fierce girl.
Unable to help myself, I slam my lips on hers. Her fire, her resilience, it’s so fucking hot. I rasp those exact words against her lips, making her moan before the sound of the others climbing out of the car jolts me out of my lusty thoughts.
I get out, helping Riley slide out behind me. She spares Aurora a final, worried glance but doesn’t waiver. Simply closes the door and turns her back on the car, trusting us to ensure she’s safe. I don’t know if she realizes how much that means— that she’s placing that much trust in us, especially given we’ve just got Aurora back.
I’m desperate to touch her, so I thread my fingers through hers as I search the shadows for Dax’s men. Spotting one, I jut my chin out, and he nods in acknowledgment, a silent reassurance that enables me to focus solely on why we’re here.
All four of us are dressed in dark clothing as we approach a set of concrete steps that lead to a large metal door typically used for deliveries. It’s good that this was able to come together tonight. While we weren’t sure if Riley would want to be involved, the three of us agreed we all wanted to be present for this. We all have our issues to address with Lydia, and Logan has away games all weekend. With only a few weeks until regionals, he can’t afford to skip any more games, not after his display of aggression last week. He’s lucky enough that the Timberwolves agreed to let him play for the Huskies for the remainder of the season. The last thing he wants is to get himself suspended for breaking NCAA rules. Despite everything going on, I know he’s buzzing about Riley being in the stands to watch the Huskies take home that championship cup for the fourth year running.
Grabbing the handle, I wrench open the heavy door. I’m instantly met with the scent of stale beer and damp concrete. Stepping inside, the dim lighting casts long, eerie shadows that dance across the walls and emphasize the low ceiling, making the space feel claustrophobic.
Our footsteps echo as we step further into the space, the metal door slamming shut behind us with a resounding thunk . Dax appears at the top of a set of short, wooden steps that must lead up to the club’s main floor. He’s dressed in his typical attire—an expensive, tailored suit that makes his muscles strain against the fabric and his tattoos stand out against his white, ironed shirt.
“Any issues?” I ask.
“No. You sure you want to be the ones to do this?”
Riley huffs out a breath at my side while I answer, “We’re certain. You’ve done more than enough, and we appreciate it, but this needs to be us.” It needs to be Riley.
She needs this.
She needs to look her mother in the eye after what she did.
Selling Aurora. Trying to kill her own daughter… just the thought has my blood boiling. I need to keep a lid on my anger, or I’m liable to snap Lydia’s neck before we truly make her suffer. Her death has been written in the stars since the moment she decided to sell Aurora, but after everything she’s done, she needs to pay before the life drains from her eyes.
With a curt nod, Dax’s gaze slides to a large, metal, heavy-set door on the far side of the basement. “She’s in there. Room is soundproof. Do whatever you want; my guys will deal with the cleanup.”
His inference is clear, and Riley shivers at my side. Still, she doesn’t contradict him, which says everything about where her head is at. The same blood-soaked place as mine, apparently.
Dax leaves us to it as we turn to face the door he pointed out. Before I can take a step toward it, Riley is striding forward. Shoulders squared, her head is held high as she steps between crates and boxes piled haphazardly. Fierce determination gleams in her eyes, a fire that refuses to be extinguished despite everything she’s been through. In spite of everything, she’s survived.
This world might try to break her, but my girl is un-fucking-breakable.
I can’t help but admire her strength and bravery as I walk behind her, sporting a hard-on. Not exactly the time, I tell my dick. Not that he’s listening. Riley’s courage is hot as fuck. Her iron will to keep going is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. That fight. That strength to get up and throw another punch when all you want to do is tap out.
Riley pauses at the entrance, just for a second, her grim determination unwavering. She’s ready for this confrontation, even if it means facing some of her darkest fears. I step closer, my heat enveloping her in a silent reminder that she’s not alone. That I’m here— we’re here. No matter what happens in there. She glances over her shoulder, those captivating eyes meeting mine as a small smile lifts her lips. I nod, and she faces the door, which looks like it leads to a walk-in freezer once more. It is with a sense of pride that I watch her take a deep breath before pulling on the handle.
We follow her into the room, purpose-built for precisely this reason. Why Dax needs a soundproofed interrogation room is none of my business. I’m certainly not about to complain about the convenience. Unlike the rest of the basement, the light is startlingly bright, and I blink as black spots dance across my vision. When they finally clear, I look around the tiled room, the stench of bleach and an underlying hint of rust assaulting my nostrils.
Lydia is sitting on a metal chair in the center of the room, her wrists bound in front of her and a blindfold over her eyes. A drain sits beneath her seat. Her head is slightly tilted, and her ear is strained in our direction. Goosebumps pebble her exposed skin—of which there is plenty since her short dress fails to cover her—and the chair rattles from her shaking so hard.
“W-who’s there?”
“I don’t think you’re in a position to ask questions,” I drawl. We decided before we got here that I would take the lead, at least initially.
Her lips purse, a crease forming along her forehead before she asks, voice shaking even more than before, “R-ruthless? I-is that you?”
“I see you’re just as useless at taking orders as the last time we spoke.” My voice is rough and harsh, my tone like the crack of a whip that has Lydia cringing in her seat.
Standing over her, I stare down at her pathetic form, unfeeling. I don’t have an ounce of sympathy for this piece of shit as I recall everything she’s done, everything she allowed to happen. My gaze strains toward Riley, but I keep my attention focused on the sniveling woman before me, knowing if I catch sight of Riley’s expression, I’ll likely murder this bitch before Riley gets what she needs off her chest.
“I-I haven’t done anything,” she whines.
Leaning down, I bring my lips to her ear. “Haven’t you?” She shuffles on her seat, trying to put as much distance between us until she’s perched right on the edge of the chair. Her lips part, likely with another protest, but I cut her off before more bullshit can spew from her mouth. “I’d think real hard about your answer because I can’t tolerate any more lies from you.”
Her lips snap shut.
“Does the name Vincent Knuckles Fisher ring any bells?” Lydia’s entire posture stiffens. “Ah, I’ll take that as a yes.” My voice is a velvet purr dripping with malintent.
“I-if he was one of y-yours, I-I didn’t know!” Her panicked, shrill grates on my ears.
“Oh no, he wasn’t one of mine,” I state with a malicious chuckle. “But the girl you sent him after?” I snarl. “She’s mine.”
I whip off her blindfold. She blinks in the stark light, her wide-eyed, frenzied gaze darting around the room as what little color remained in her cheeks drains. Finally, she spots the others standing behind me. Recognition flashes across her face, quickly followed by confusion and a fresh wave of terror. “G-Grayson? R-Riley? I don’t—What’s going on?”
“What’s going on, Lydia, is that you thought you could hire some amateur dipshit to take out my girl .”
“ Our girl,” Grayson corrects automatically—possessive jerk.
At the sound of his voice, Lydia’s attention snaps to where he is standing with his arms crossed, looking bored as all hell. What he is is furious. It’s there in the tick of his jaw and the tense way he holds himself, as though he’s fighting to keep from coming over here and slapping the bitch. I can totally relate. “G-Grayson.” There’s a pleading in Lydia’s voice as she repeats his name. “H-help me. I don’t know what he’s talking about. This has all been some sort of mistake! A-an attempt to e-extort money from your father.”
Grayson snorts, his arms crossed over his lean chest. “Believe me, Lydia. None of us are interested in my dad’s dirty money.”
A soft touch at my back has me stepping aside so Riley can take my place in front of her mother.
“What we want is retribution.” Her voice is steel, and I’m so fucking proud of her.
“Riley.” For the first time, Lydia’s tone has a haughty snap. “This is absurd. What have you roped these boys into?”
Grayson and Logan bristle while I clear my throat in a clear warning. Lydia’s shoulders curve in, her wary gaze flashing to mine before darting back to her daughter. “R-ruthless is a dangerous man. You shouldn’t be associating with the likes of him.”
Riley throws her head back in a caustic laugh that feels like broken glass embedding beneath my skin. Dropping her gaze back to her mother, she tilts her head to one side. “Says the woman who hired him to sell my daughter! ” Her last words come out in a scream that bounces off the white tiles.
Lydia’s face drains of color. Riley notices, her cackle at the turn of events something deranged yet cathartic. “Oh yeah. We know all about how you sold your only fucking grandchild on the black-fucking-market because you’re a heartless, twisted bitch.”
Every ounce of pent-up aggression pours out of Riley and hits her mother square in the face. Not that Lydia so much as flinches. If anything, a spark of malice ignites in her muddy brown eyes, and she lifts her chin in a show of defiance. Of silence.
Seeing it, Riley sneers. “I hate you,” she spits in her mother’s face. “What the fuck did I ever do to you?” Smacking a hand over her heart, her voice cracks with fury and despair. “ I’m your daughter. All I wanted was for you to love me.”
Unmoved by Riley’s words, Lydia’s lip curls in disgust. “You wanted to suck me dry! Mommy this. Mommy that. Always needing something. Even when I ensured you had everything you could ever want, it wasn’t enough. You just had to keep taking. Taking what wasn’t yours.”
“ Oh my god. ” Riley paces away before marching forward, pointing a finger into Lydia’s chest. “For the last fucking time,” she snarls, “I did not take your husband. Your sick slimeball of a husband raped me, but of course, you’re too self-involved to see it that way.” It’s Riley’s turn to curl her lip as she glares down at her mother in disgust. “You were never a mother.”
In a move so shocking I don’t see it coming, Riley’s hand whips out and slaps her mother across the face. Lydia’s head whips to the side, a bright red palm print crawling across her cheek.
“ You might not be a mother, but I am,” she hisses. Bending down, she gets right in Lydia’s face. Fisting her hair, Lydia screeches and writhes in the chair. Logan steps up, keeping her in place as Riley snarls in her face, spittle hitting the woman’s cheek. “A mother goes to the ends of the earth for their child. They’ll do anything for them. They never give up. They never stop looking.” A slow and truly malicious grin spreads across Riley’s face. “I found her.” Lydia goes stock still, eyes wide as she stops fighting Logan’s hold, and stares wide-eyed at her daughter. “Yeah,” Riley smirks. “Bet you didn’t expect that. You lose, Lydia.”
“No,” the bitch whimpers.
“It’s over. You’re done. I’m going to walk out of here, and my daughter and I will be living our best lives. We’ll never speak your name again. You’re dead to us.”
I’m not sure if Riley realizes her mother will literally be dead by the end of this night, but I don’t think she’s too bothered either way. Like she said, once she leaves this room, it will be like her mom no longer exists. That’s as much permission as I need to finish the job.
Sensing that she’s done, I step forward. Aware of the sudden threat, Lydia’s eyes snap to me, her body trembling. Flexing my muscles, I crack my knuckles. As each crack whips through the air, she flinches, her trembling growing stronger until the entire chair rattles. I take great pleasure in her terror. While I’m usually anti-violence against women, and I’m sure Grayson and Logan would agree, for this bitch, I’m more than willing to set that aside. Given that I haven’t been to The Depot for an actual fight in weeks, and I’m a pent-up ball of aggression ready to unleash.
Lucky for Lydia, she’s going to face the full ferocity of my wrath.
She begins to thrash furiously in the chair, and Logan’s firm grip on her is the only thing keeping her from flopping onto the floor. “No! Please!” She screams bloody murder, the sound a waste of energy since it does nothing but vibrate around the room before swirling meaninglessly down the drain. “I-I’ll talk. I-I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
My chuckle is sharp and deadly. “Lydia, Lydia,” I tut. “Don’t you see by now that you have nothing of use to us?”
“I-it wasn’t just me.” She practically shrieks the words, pressing herself so deep into the chair she’s practically rubbing up on Logan.
“Oh, you mean your little fuck buddy, David?” Even her lips drain of color. “Don’t worry, we already had a chat with him. He was very informative. Told us all about how the two of you concocted this plan to sell Aurora to make a quick buck and get back at your daughter and husband.”
“I-I can tell you about the buyer.”
I shake my head. “No, you can’t. You don’t know shit about the buyer. Your buddy filled us in on that, too. How, the night you were supposed to hand Aurora over to me, you abandoned her in a fucking playpark while she was sleeping .”
Riley stiffens. She wasn’t aware of any of this. When I’d told her David had given us all the sordid details, she said she’d prefer not to know—all that mattered was that Aurora was safe and home.
I smirk down at the snot-nosed bitch. Crouching in front of her, I reach up to push a strand of bleach-blonde hair out of her face. “There’s something David didn’t tell you, though. Something I’m going to take great pleasure in informing you before we—” I point to Grayson and Logan—“take our pound of flesh.”
She looks pathetic. Nothing like the pretentious bitch who walked into that speakeasy all those months ago and tried to get me to sleep with her in exchange for selling her granddaughter.
“Shit.” Grayson curses, and I whip toward him. His face has lost its color, and when he glances at me, alarm has darkened his already dark irises. He twists his phone toward me, showing me the numerous missed calls from the nursing home. Shit.
He marches out of the room to call them back, but after sharing a look with the others, we know we need to leave now.
None of us bother to spare Lydia a glance—she’s not worth our time—as we follow Grayson out of the room. “What’s wrong?” Logan demands.
“It’s Gran,” Grayson chokes. “She’s taken a turn. The home says I need to get there now. ”
“Then let’s go.” I’m already messaging Dax to let him know we’ll be back and not to take out the trash just yet. I wasn’t speaking metaphorically when I told Lydia I wanted her pound of flesh. I’m going to take it—all of it. For Riley. For Aurora. For our family.