Chapter 36
THIRTY-SIX
The room is dark and small, holding nothing more than a thin, dirty mattress that reeks of sex and urine. I gag when I wake up, face down in the filth, barely managing not to wretch up the last vestiges of food that remain in my stomach.
I sit, my head buried in my hands, for what seems like hours before the door finally opens to reveal the man who has been nothing but a lie my entire life. He tilts his head, studying me, his cold eyes assessing in a way they never have before.
My body is still clothed in the sheer red dress I wore at the auction. A symbol of my non-virginity, apparently. The hairs on my arms stand on end when the man I’ve known as father steps into the room with Drew on his heel, shutting the door firmly behind them.
“Hello, daughter.” He draws out the former familial title.
Drew licks his lips, his eyes lighting up as they roam my nearly naked form.
I keep silent, not wanting to engage them further, my eyes locked on the far wall.
“I’m sorry it had to come to this. Although this is where the path would have eventually led.
” He shrugs nonchalantly. My life means that little to him.
“You just ended up here slightly sooner than either of us would have liked.”
My jaw tightens to the point of pain. It wouldn’t surprise me if I cracked some teeth with how hard they are clenched.
There are so many things I could say. Sewage I could spill about his life, but I won’t.
Even if Kiernan and the rest of the Kavanaughs deserve to be put in their place.
I could easily tell Crowe about the information they truly have.
I’ve seen flashes of what had been uploaded and none of it was good.
Every corrupt judge, politician, and police captain will go down for what they’ve taken part in.
That is my hope.
Kiernan may have sold me out, but I don’t believe for one second the lie he told Crowe about their shared interests. The drive he handed over hadn’t been the one I gave him, which means they still have a plan to take him out.
It just doesn’t involve me.
Crowe kneels in front of me, his eyes burning a hole in my face, but still, I refuse to acknowledge him.
“Let me tell you a little story.” From my periphery, I can see a slow smile spread across his face. “Once upon a time, there was a man who was building himself an empire.”
Cue eye roll. My inner bitch is sitting in the corner, ready to pounce, but fear keeps her contained.
“He went off to college with his friends, ready to conquer the world.
But one night, a mistake was made. A drunken one, and from there, everything began to slide.
The college was ready to expel them. Internships were being rescinded…
so he made his first dirty deal in order to keep everything from falling apart.
“Now, he wasn’t able to do that for everyone.
” He shrugs. “Some of his friends wound up in jail, and others had their career opportunities disappear as if they’d never been offered.
He managed to get away unscathed, along with a few others with whom he eventually went into business, and the mistake of the past was buried. ”
There are only three people he can be talking about: Ward and Ford. Both of whom are now dead, and Knight, who still clings to this world like a bad sex tape.
“Soon, his career grows and grows. But he learns that not all dead things stay buried.”
“Is there a point to this fucking story?” I growl, finally breaking. “Or do you just like to hear the sound of your own voice?”
A hand wraps around my throat, stifling my scream.
Not that it would matter in this place. No one will come running.
He lifts me from the floor, pushing me down on the bed, his weight bearing down on me.
Nails dig into flesh as I flail beneath him.
The smell of iron tinges the air. I’ve managed to rake my nails down his face before Drew seizes my wrists above my head, leaving me helpless beneath the man I once called father.
There is nothing fatherly about the bulge I feel pressing against my stomach.
The urge to wretch is high, and I have to fight against the need to vomit everywhere. The only thing holding me back is the thought that I won’t have anything to change into, and I’ll end up sleeping in vomit-covered clothes and a mattress.
“Enough,” he roars. The back of his hand against my cheek effectively stills me.
My chest heaves as I fight to take in air.
It is like breathing through a straw. “Do you know what I’ve had to do to get where I am?
To build this legacy? I own this city, and soon, I’ll be on top of the world.
The most powerful man in history. When your slut of a mother came back to Seattle after leaving to find herself, she sought me out.
Told me she would ruin me. I couldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t let that happen.”
“So… you… killed her…” I wheeze. Crowe smirks.
“I didn’t have to.” He chuckles. “Lina did all of that for me. I just,” he pauses, “set things in motion.
I know Eriksen was set to be engaged to Lina.
Back then, she was Marilina Brandt. I also knew that if he met your mother, he would call everything off.
The two were fated to be together. So alike. And it worked.
“I knew Lina would be looking for revenge, so I did everything I could to help her get right under your mother’s nose without her ever knowing.
A few nips and tucks later, and she easily became Lina Davenport.
It was supposed to look like an accident, yours and your mother’s deaths.
Something Eriksen would never suspect was foul play.
But your mother was sharper than I anticipated.
Not surprising. Lina and your mother had been friends for years before college.
“Appearances are easily changed. Mannerisms are not.” His eyes gleam darkly.
“Hence the sudden bloodshed. Elizabeth and her entire squad of Vixens were cut down like the dogs they were. But somehow you escaped. Imagine my luck when I got a call from one of your father’s club whores.
She saved you from the massacre just to broker a deal with me. Drug money for you.”
“You killed her,” I rasp.
He smirks. “Made it look like a dirty accident. Overdose. Some forged paperwork later, and you were reborn Bailey Jameson. You were only three, so I wasn’t worried too much about you remembering much. As you grew, there were a few things that snuck through, but that was what therapy was for.”
Tears escape. “You… buried my… memories?” Dots are beginning to dance across my vision. If he keeps this up, I will pass out from lack of oxygen. My lungs are working overtime trying to keep air flowing through my body and to my brain.
“I needed to make sure you never remembered anything that I hadn’t put there.”
“Fuck…” I struggle against him, “you.”
“If only there was time for that.” He lets go of my throat.
I gasp as air surges into my lungs. The room spins slightly, but the dots in my vision recede.
Standing, Crowe straightens himself. “You will be going to a nice little place Lina has set aside for you. Somewhere we can keep an eye on you and make sure your father stays in line. I’ve lost count of how many times he’s tried to rescue you over the years.
Until he sees what I am willing to do if he doesn’t obey. ”
The beatings.
The starvations.
All things my brain has been conditioned to accept as punishment for something I did wrong. The very therapist I had gone to in order to keep my traumatic past at bay had, in fact, been conditioning me over the years to accept the abuse.
That fucker is definitely going on my kill list.
Right after these two fuckers.
And Lina.
And Sarah.
Shit, that list is getting long.
Inner psycho is sharpening her teeth in one corner and saying fuck it.
“Well, I’m so glad you came to read me a bullshit bedtime story,” I sneer. “It’s cute how you try to make yourself out as the martyr, when you’re nothing but a coward who can’t make it to the top without greasing a few wheels.”
No reaction.
Shit. That isn’t good.
“I didn’t just come here to tell you my story, Bailey,” he assures me darkly. “I come to show you exactly what happens to those who double-cross me.”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small cattle prod.
Well, shit.
“So,” he smirks, his eyes lighting up, “let’s begin.”