Chapter 28 #2
“Why not? Because Daddy’s watching?” I pick up the watch and turn it over to inspect it. “Is this thing bugged?”
“No, I had it checked. It’s a normal watch.”
Shoving the watch into his chest, I snarl.
“Then what’s your fucking problem?” I throw my arm out towards the lobby where Mercy’s waiting.
“She’s right there, Sam, completely unaware that you’re here.
She’s been crying herself to sleep, did you know that?
Can’t remember a damn thing she dreams about, but I hear it every night.
Sam, don’t leave; Sam, where did you go?
; Sam, why did you abandon us? Over and over and over again.
It’s enough to make me—” I laugh bitterly as I tug on the ends of my hair, the searing pain in my scalp keeping me grounded.
I could get lost in the sound of Mercy’s cries.
“Because if I go out there, I won’t leave!
” Sam shoves me back. “If I see her face, even once, I won’t be able to walk away.
And right now, she needs me. Not in her arms where I want to be, but where I can be useful.
Out here,” he spits, slamming the heel of his palm over my heart.
“Where I can’t fucking touch her!” He snarls like an animal and clenches his eyes shut.
“I’m doing this for her. The only way to rip his claws out of her is to transfer ownership.
That’s the bullshit I’m dealing with. This contract was written in fucking blood.
It’s like some—” His face twists. “Underworld shit. He’s the king of hell, and we’re souls for him to collect. ”
“He doesn’t own people, Sam. That’s illegal.”
Sam scoffs. “So is killing people, but that’s never stopped you before. Forty-three people, Zane? Are you fucking crazy?”
Dread fills my gut like lead. “How do you know that?”
“Because that’s his latest punishment.” Sam’s sneer is ugly as hell. “Tallying up how many people you’ve killed and how they died. Don’t ask me how he has the resources. I just know that there’s only so many dismemberment videos that I can take before I fucking crack.”
There shouldn’t have been any recording devices on site for any of our kills.
“It has to be doctored footage. That’s impossible.
” Yet, Sam knows our exact number of kills.
A wave of anxiety ripples through my body like an undeniable current, easily sweeping me into a panic.
If Sam already knows that much about Kane and me, what else can he find out?
Are our whole lives on record in some billionaire’s basement for him to laugh at whenever he damn well pleases?
Does power like that even exist?
“Mercy’s forty-four, isn’t she?” Sitting in one of the patient chairs, Sam puts his head in his hands. “Just another number for you two. I can’t fucking believe it.”
“Oh, don’t act all high and mighty. You know if the roles were reversed and Mercy wanted to kill people, you’d be lining up victims for her.
” I hold my head high. “I have no fucking regrets, because I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.
And you, Sam, are no different than me. Don’t you dare pretend to be shocked and disgusted about what we’ve done until you’ve had a good, hard look in the mirror, because I promise you, the minute she looks you in the eyes and whispers her greatest desires, you’ll do whatever it takes to make her happy. No matter the cost.”
Sam takes a deep breath and meets my eyes.
“I can’t do that with a leash around my neck.
” He pulls at his collar next, loosening his tie when that doesn’t satisfy him.
“Getting rid of my father serves two purposes. It ensures that I have enough assets to do whatever the hell I want with my life, and—” He stares at the wall between him and Mercy.
“It passes ownership of every fucked-up contract my father owns to me, including the one with Ingrid Morningstar’s name on it. ”
I stare at Sam as he clasps his watch onto his wrist. “What does Mercy’s mom have to do with anything? I thought her dad’s the one who sold her family away?” How far back does this shit with Samuel go?
“No,” he replies, fixing his tie next. The man’s a mess. “Ingrid’s the mastermind. It’s why my father had her killed. She knew too much and gave little in return after my dad got what he wanted.”
A shiver runs down my spine. “Which was?”
“That’s… complicated.”
“How complicated can it be?” I stop him from leaving. “Tell me.”
Sam’s eyebrows pinch together, but he relents with barely any coercion. He likely needs someone to talk to about everything he’s uncovered.
Ironic that we’re in a shrink’s office.
“Dad wanted the mortuary for easy body disposal. That part’s obvious.
But he didn’t want the Morningstars to get ‘above themselves’—” Sam’s frown deepens.
“So not only has he been sabotaging their business for years, he added a clause in the contract about body ownership that Ingrid’s lawyer must have missed or willingly overlooked. ”
My money’s on the latter.
“Everyone who has the Morningstar name, whether maiden or married, along with every single person buried on the property, Morningstar or not, belongs to him. Which means…” He clears his throat. “Even in death, he’s trying to control my mother.”
I try to understand, but I’m missing the full picture.
“I thought your mom was buried at that Catholic Church in the center of the city.” News outlets would not shut up about Mrs. Wright’s funeral the week that it happened.
White rose petals filled the streets as her casket was transferred to the church.
“That’s what everyone thinks, but the Catholic Church is one of the few places my father doesn’t have a foothold.
She was baptized Catholic at birth, so he thought he’d win points with the local diocese by holding her funerary service there.
But she isn’t buried at that church; she’s buried at the one on the Morningstar property.
Right out front, if the pictures are to be believed. ”
“You’re telling me that you had no clue your mom was buried with the Morningstars?”
“My dad didn’t exactly invite me to her second burial after I cried my eyes out at the first one. I was already enough of an embarrassment. Besides,” Sam sighs, “we’d been fighting ever since Mom first got sick. This was another way he’d have one up on me.”
I clap my hand on Sam’s shoulder. “That’s fucked up.”
His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, well, that’s what it’s like to be a Wright. Be glad you have a different last name.” He gets a faraway look in his eye. “If I ever marry Mercy, I’m changing my name to Morningstar. They’ve been more of a family to me than my own ever has.”
A smile curves on my lips, but Sam’s slipped out the door and disappeared before he can notice.
Thank God, too, because I don’t want to be the one to tell him that he’s gonna have to fight Kane for Mercy’s hand—or for her last name, at least. Because if I know my boyfriend like I think I do, he’s a total sap for that shit.
Warmth spreads from my chest to my fingertips, and I shake my head to knock the smile off my face. If I’m not careful, I might start to fall for that kind of shit, too, and the last thing we need are three men sharing last names.
I sure as hell don’t want to look like I’m married to Sam.
Imagining Kane and Sam bickering about it, though?
Fucking priceless.