Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 61082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
“I don’t love you. I have never loved you.”
“Not every relationship needs love,” he says simply. “Just obedience.”
I want to laugh, but Jerome calls my name, and Scott smiles.
TWENTY-SIX
JOEY
“Yo, did you all see this?” Lucas steps into Keir’s dining room, where we’re all seated for dinner. He hands his phone to Keir, who studies it, and then lifts his head to me.
“Have you seen her?” he asks, and I know the ‘her’ he’s referring to is Adora.
“No, why?”
“Check your phone.” I pull it out of my pocket and see a message from an unknown number. When I press play on the attached video, I see myself, at night, with Adora in front of me. My hands slide down her pants as I push her against the brick wall.
“What the fuck?” My gaze shoots up to Lucas, who is smiling. “You’re sending out videos of me with Adora?” I shake my head, my jaw tight. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” My hands are clenched, and Lucas starts to laugh.
“As if. Though, if you want to send me some for my spank bank—” Chanel hits him, and he rolls his eyes before apologizing. “It was sent to me too, fuckhead.”
“Why would someone send you this?” Keir asks.
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
Keir excuses everyone, but I don’t move. Finally, when it’s just the two of us, he speaks, “You aren’t doing your job…” my brows scrunch together, “… as well as you need to be, I should have added. You’re distracted by her.” I go to speak, but he holds up his hand to stop me. “You are, and I get it. I’ve been distracted by a woman before. You love her, Joey, so fucking marry her.”
“Tried that.” My phone beeps again. I look down at the unknown number flashing. Opening up the message, I see a picture of my mother. Instantly, my chest constricts.
“Keir?” I ask slowly. This could be fake. “Where is our mother tonight?”
“She didn’t show,” he says in a voice that makes my back straighten.
“Why?”
“No idea. She didn’t call, so I figured she was sleeping.” He shrugs.
“Call her.” He does it straight away without asking why. When she doesn’t answer, I slide my phone over to him.
His eyes go wide, and he shoots to his feet. “Get your fucking shit. Now.” He’s up and gone. I quickly reach out to a contact who is an expert hacker to see if they can find who sent these messages or even where they’re from.
Lucas walks back in just as Keir’s grabbing two guns and sliding them into a shoulder holster.
“Where are we going?” he asks, ready to go. No need to tell him why. He’s always ready for a kill.
“Where does she live?” Keir asks.
I know he isn’t referring to our mother, so I rattle off the address, the one I am not meant to know, as another message comes through.
“Who was that?” Keir pushes.
I show him my phone. This one is a picture of Adora asleep on a bed.
“Should have killed him when I had the chance,” I mutter, grinding my teeth.
“That’s not how things work, and you know it,” Keir says.
“Now look at where we are. This fucker has my wife and my mother.”
“Not your wife. But definitely our mother.”
“How do we know it’s him?” Lucas asks, and we both turn to him.
“It’s him.” I growl.
Lucas shrugs his shoulders.
My phone buzzes, and I read the text out loud.
“Seems Scott went through customs last night.”
“Maybe you should have killed him,” Lucas says.
“No shit,” I add.
We load into the car and peel away from the curb. Piper is behind us in another car with a few other men as an address comes through on my phone.
It isn’t Adora’s address.
It’s our mother’s.
“It’s saying Mom’s home,” I tell them.
“At her apartment?” I show him the text that shows an address.
“Fuck.” Usually, we would send someone else in first, but in this case, it’s our mother, so Keir and I are first through the door of our mother’s apartment. All the lights are off, but when he flicks them on, we see blood on the floor. Stepping farther in, a soft moan is heard, and everyone stops breathing to listen. Walking over to the couch, I see her curled up in a ball, her face and body covered in blood.
My mother.
Whoever the fuck did this is going to die a slow, painful death. This woman may be hard, but she loves hard and is always fair.
“Mom.” My voice is soft as I approach her.
She opens one eye, the other swollen shut from bruising. “He wants her,” she croaks before I put my hands under her legs and lift her off the couch.
“Where are you going?”
“To the fucking hospital.”
“Put her down. We have our own doctors,” Keir orders, but I don’t listen and carry her out anyway.