Putting my dress back in place, I respond to Kira as I make my way downstairs and into the formal dining room. I sit down at the table.
“Ellington?”
I look up to see my mom enter with a few members of her staff. “Are you okay, honey? You look a little sick.” Before waiting for me to answer, she turns to them, barking out orders, then faces me once again, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I’m fine, Mom. Just tired.”
“Well, if you wouldn’t stay out all night with random men like a raccoon digging through trash, you wouldn’t be so exhausted.”
I nod, picking up the bottle of champagne from the middle of the table. “You’re right, Mom.” I toss it back, sucking it from the bottle.
She frowns but then orders her little bitches to bring a new bottle since I’ve claimed this one. She walks out and I pull it away from my lips, sucking in a deep breath.
“A glass, Miss Ellington.” A member of her hired staff sets a champagne flute in front of me. His way of telling me my mother won’t appreciate my unruly manners in front of our guests.
I reach out, pick up the crystal flute and then slam it down on the marble floor next to my chair. It was from my mom’s second wedding. A gift from my daddy.
His eyes narrow on mine as I stare up at him. “I’m sorry, it slipped.”
“Quite all right, miss. I’ll get you another one,” he says tightly, turning toward the hallway. I hear him snap his fingers, ordering someone to the formal dining room because picking up my messes are beneath him.
Reaching down, I pick up a piece and hold it in my hand. My pointer finger runs over the sharp corner. I hiss in a breath when I see it’s cut me. The slightest drop of blood pops out before running down my finger. I pull it into my mouth and suck. The taste reminds me of what Sin and I did on the back of the boat. Fuck, I want him even more now than I ever have.
Why? Because I know he’s as fucked up as I am? Because he has known it was me this entire time? He showed up for me when I needed him. He held me in my bed. That has to mean something, right? That it’s more than just sex?
And the mystery man. He’s done so many dirty … no, filthy things to me. Some I begged for. Other times, he didn’t allow me that option.
I hear laughter coming from down the hall and I curl my hand around the glass to hide it. She enters, and my eyes meet a set of brown ones. My breathing picks up. I’ve only ever seen him twice in my life.
I sit in the grand hall on the couch, eyes on the floor.
“Who would do this?” my mother cries. “Who would kill James?”
“I don’t know, Laura. But I’ll find him. I’ll take care of it. There will be retribution.”
I lift my eyes to look at the bastard who sits across from me. He’s got his arms around my mom while she sobs into his side, but his eyes are on me. They drop to my dress, and his brows crease when he looks at my wrists. The marks still visible from the zip tie the mystery man used to tie me up after he killed my stepdad.
The front door opens, and my mom jumps to her feet. “Anything?” she begs.
“No, ma’am.” The officer shakes his head. “No proof of forced entry.”
“He must have been at the party,” Lincoln growls. “Check the list.”
“We have …”
“Then double, triple-check it, for fuck’s sake,” he snaps, and my mom’s body shakes. “I want to know how he had access to this fucking house.”
My bedroom. I watched him leave out of my French doors to my balcony. He must have entered the same way. I never lock them. I prefer to leave them open at night and listen to the wind howl in the trees. It’s soothing.
“Are you okay, miss?” A man comes up to stand in front of me.
I look up at him through my lashes. They’re clumped together. His eyes drop to my dress and heels. I know I look like shit. They think it’s because my stepdad is dead, but it’s because I allowed his killer to fuck me with his gun. My pussy burns. I’m pretty sure I’m getting an infection. But I don’t give a fuck. It was worth it. To be fucked by the very thing that killed the man I hate? I’ll take an infection any day for the price of freedom.
“She’s fine.” Lincoln scoffs.
“She’s in shock.” My mother cries, “She hasn’t spoken since … since Linc found the body.”
I didn’t even know Lincoln was attending tonight. I wouldn’t have stayed home if I had. But that doesn’t mean anything. It was packed full of guests. And I stayed to myself. Always do.
“Let us call EMS to check her out.” The officer doesn’t wait for anyone to answer. He speaks into the radio on his shoulder and orders an ambulance.
“Why?” my mother screams, making me flinch. “Why did this happen? Again?” She’s now sobbing on her knees by the couch.
Lincoln walks up behind her and places his hands on her shoulders. “Laura …”
“He was so good to us. He loved us.” I whimper at her words, and the officer notices.
“Are you going to get sick, miss?” he asks me.
“She’s fine,” Lincoln snaps at him, but the officer doesn’t look away from me.
Am I? No. I wish I could expel every touch, every kiss, every motherfucking memory of him, but I can’t. Only death will offer me such mercy.
A new officer comes walking down the stairs and hands a pill bottle to the one who hovers over me. “Found this in the bathroom by his body.”
“What are they?”
The man lowers his voice. “Viagra.”
My body shudders. I’ve been lucky enough the past year that he’s needed help getting it up. It wasn’t as fun for him to fuck me when it had to be scheduled. A part of me—the sick part—was ashamed of myself that I no longer did it for him. The other part told her to shut the fuck up.
“Someone removed his finger,” another man states, coming down the stairs.
My mother’s shrill scream that follows the officer’s statement makes my ears ring. I had watched the mystery man cut it off. He didn’t know I was there, but I was. Stunned to silence at first. He thought I was going to talk. He has no idea how well I can keep a secret. One of those secrets is sitting across from me, holding my sobbing mother.
The front double doors fly open, and three men enter the family room in solid black three-piece suits. “That’s enough, gentlemen. We’ll take it from here.”
They’re Lords. Powerful men at the top of their food chain.
“With all due respect …”
“Get the fuck out of Mr. Roland’s house,” one commands. His voice booming over my mother’s cries
I want to correct him. This isn’t James’s house. It was my father’s, who left it to my mother in his death. But I can’t make my lips move.
“We’ve got medics on the way,” the officer who called me an ambulance argues.
Another man enters the house and the Lords gesture to him.
“We brought our own.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Last time I’m going to say it.”
Understanding the officers are outnumbered and outpowered, they exit the house as the Lords follow Lincoln upstairs to where the body remains.