Chapter Thirty-Two
“When I was seventeen, I found a stash of photos Clyde keeps. Fucked up trophies of his most atrocious acts.”
“What kind of photos?” Dorian asks.
Bile rises in my throat, and I shake my head slowly.
“Pictures of women. Most of them dead, all of them bloody and brutalized. The gang got up to terrible shit, and Clyde got off on beating and raping women. Killing them, too. I think he was the man Carver sent when he wanted to give a rival a message. Clyde would take the rival’s wife, torture her, rape her, and sometimes kill her. ”
Dorian stiffens beneath me, but he doesn’t say anything.
“One of those pictures was of Carver’s late wife.
I think she might’ve had something on Clyde, something she threatened him with.
Whatever the case, she became one of his victims. Every photo has a date, a few words, and Clyde’s signature.
I took the photo of Maria, Carver’s wife, got photocopies of it, and stashed them in several places.
If and when my death certificate or a missing person’s report is filed in any database, that photo will be sent to Carver. ”
Dorian sucks in a sharp breath, going even more tense. The energy radiating from him turns angry, furious. He’s restless and gearing for violence, and I happen to be the person nearest to him. Fear sparks in my chest.
“I know it’s terrible to keep what I know to myself,” I rush to say. “But I didn’t feel like I had another choice. I had to get away, and holding Clyde’s worst deed against him was the best way to do that. I’m sorry—”
“Shush,” Dorian says, pressing his index finger against my lips. “I’m not judging you, baby. I’m not mad at you. I’m fucking furious that you lived with a man like Clyde for years.” He inhales, lips pressed into a flat line. “Did he ever…?”
I shake my head. “No. For a while, I was too young, but I knew he would’ve eventually. That’s why I was so desperate to get out, to find leverage on him.” I examine Dorian’s expression. “You’re… not mad at me?”
He shakes his head. “No, Mira, I’m not mad at you. I’m mad that you had to live with a vile man who hurt you. You did what you had to do, baby.” He kisses the corner of my mouth.
“It helps to know that Maria was a genuinely awful person herself,” I say quietly.
“I’m almost positive she had a hand in trafficking, because she threatened to turn my mom into a stripper and put her to work more than once.
She was truly, truly evil—she and her husband were an excellent match.
” I purse my lips. “This is awful of me, but I’m glad she’s gone.
The world is a bit less evil without her.
I’m not happy about the things Clyde did to her, the atrocities she experienced that no woman ever should, but… ”
“I get it,” Dorian assures me, kissing my forehead. “It’s okay, baby. It’s alright.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, relief chasing away my anxiety.
He strokes his thumb over my jaw. “Do you want to try calling Clyde now to get it over with, or do it later?”
The sooner it’s over, the better. I don’t want to give my stepfather a second’s more thought than I have to. He doesn’t deserve to take up space in my brain.
“I’ll do it now,” I say. “Should I use my phone?” Dorian presented me with a brand-new phone that has a new number and better encryption yesterday.
He shakes his head. “No, I don’t want him knowing your new number. Use the old one.”
I slowly get off his lap, taking deep breaths to try to prepare myself.
I throw on shorts and a camisole, then fish out my old phone from the bedside stand’s drawer.
Ironically, it’s lying right next to a few sex toys—items that I figure Dorian will be using on me tonight.
At least there’s something to look forward to in my near future.
I pull out my phone, take a seat on the side of the bed, and unlock it.
My finger hovers over Clyde’s number in my recent contacts, and I feel my heart start to race.
My chest tightens and beads of sweat break out over my body.
A fine tremor settles in my limbs, and I feel the urge to dissociate sweep over me.
It's almost an instinctual reaction when it comes to Clyde.
Then, Dorian takes a seat beside me and wraps his arm around my waist, and the worst edge of my anxiety melts away. I’m still wound tight, still anxious, but the wish to zone out disappears. I know I can handle this with Dorian next to me.
“Give me a date,” I request. “A date for the meeting.”
“November 7th,” Dorian replies. “9 p.m., at the brewery in town.”
Either he or Sergei have done their research. The brewery in my home town has a basement that’s often utilized for gang meetings.
I hit Clyde’s number. The phone rings only twice before he picks up. The sound of his heavy breathing is enough to make me curl into myself; I draw my knees up to my chest and rest the side of my face against them, trying to remain grounded.
“You’ve been ignoring my calls,” Clyde says darkly. “That’s not very nice of you.”
Breathe, Mira. Just get through this. “I was doing what you asked,” I reply, my voice admirably firm. “It wasn’t simple, but I managed to get you a meeting with Novikov. He’ll be in your neck of the woods on November 7th; he’ll meet you at the brewery at 9 p.m. He’ll bring some of his underlings.”
A long pause ensues, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. “Good. I’ll pass it along.”
“We’re done now,” I tell him. “I did what you asked, that’s it. Ask anything else of me ever again, and I’ll tell Carver what you did.”
“The fuck you will, bitch, because I’ll make sure you burn for it if you do,” Clyde snaps, raising his voice.
Dorian’s arm tightens around me, silently showing his support.
“Besides, Carver wants to see you again. He’s curious how you grew up, what you’ve made of yourself.
You remember that he always liked you, don’t you? ”
The words are spoken in a sinister tone, and the threat is clear. I only met Carver a handful of times, and each time I did, he gave me looks that raised the hairs on the back of my neck. His energy was teeming with darkness and malice—it’s not surprising to know that he’s into some darker shit.
“I’m never going back to that shithole again,” I tell Clyde, not bothering to keep the derision from my tone. “You and I are done.”
“We’re done when I say we’re done,” Clyde responds harshly, losing his patience.
“And I say we’re not done yet. Drop the uppity cunt act; I know you’re still just a scared little girl who needs a man to tell her what to do and correct her when she fucks up.
You and the guy you’re whoring yourself out to will both attend the meeting. ”
“The fuck I will,” I hiss. “The answer is no, Clyde.”
“Then the meeting is off, and your boy will need to explain to his boss exactly what happened to make it fall through. We have a good operation running here; I’m sure Sergei will want in on it. He’ll probably be disappointed if it falls through because of his underling.”
I look to Dorian with wide eyes. He watches me with a harsh expression, his anger evident in the bulging veins and tendons on his neck.
He subtly shakes his head, silently communicating that I should push back against Clyde, but I don’t see how.
Sergei ordered Dorian to have me set this up; my failure to do so could result in Dorian getting reprimanded, maybe even cut off.
He already went out on a limb for me with Sergei, I can’t let him down now.
The operation Carver’s running has to be shut down; for that, this meeting needs to take place.
If that requires me to come along, then I’ll do what I have to do.
I squeeze Dorian’s hand, snuggling close to him.
The heat radiating from his body is almost enough to penetrate the cold settling in my bones.
“Fine,” I say. Dorian’s grip turns to steel and he shakes his head, but I ignore him.
“If your blackened heart is really set on having me there, so be it. But the boy you keep referring to is actually a man, and he happens to be my man, so I hope you’re not planning on attempting to pull anything with me. ”
“Are you fucking threatening me with the little boy you’re selling yourself to?” Clyde all but shouts.
“No. I’m guaranteeing that if you put a finger on me, he will cut it off.
Then your wrist, your arm, and finally, your empty head.
Sergei doesn’t want you; he wants Carver.
” I pause, letting my threat settle. “Don’t contact me again, ever.
And should any harm befall me at the meeting, know that there are dozens of copies of the photo with your handwriting that’ll get sent to your precious boss.
” I hang up, resisting the urge to throw my old phone at the wall and break it.
Without any preamble, Dorian pulls me onto his lap. “Why the fuck would you agree to that?” he asks, his voice a furious whisper. “I don’t want you anywhere near that piece of shit—”
“You’ll protect me,” I cut him off. “I know you will. He won’t touch me, not when I have you.”
Dorian swears under his breath. “Of course I’ll protect you physically, but what will seeing Clyde do to your emotions, Mira?
I don’t want you to dissociate so far that you disappear.
I couldn’t handle that.” He growls. “Why would you do that? Why put yourself in such a shitty position? You’re smarter than that, there has to be another way—”
“There isn’t,” I interrupt again. “I know Clyde, Dorian. I lived with him for years. Once he has something in his head, there’s literally no dissuading him.
As for why I did it…” I trail off, biting my lip.
“I heard what you said to Sergei. You were willing to defy an order for me. You were willing to dissolve your working relationship with him for me, which I’m sure would’ve been a dangerous move.
If you’ll jeopardize your future for me, there’s no reason I won’t agree to show up to a meeting for you. ”