Despite the fact that my hangover was a complete fabrication, a lead weight of guilt sank in my chest. I always took responsibility for my mistakes, and even though my condition this morning wasn’t at all my fault, I still felt the emotional gut punch of failure.
“In this case, a little white lie is okay,” Daddy reassured me, most of the disapproval ebbing from his tone now that I’d thoroughly admitted my supposed mistake. “Mike will probably be able to figure out the gist of the situation, but you’re right. It’s unprofessional to say you’re hungover. Just say you’re not feeling one-hundred-percent, but offer to work late to catch up on whatever you miss this morning. Assure him that you’ll stay until you meet all your responsibilities and then some. Mike isn’t unreasonable. He was once twenty-one years old, too. We’ve all been there.”
I huffed out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. My dad was safe, and I was forgiven for my false transgression. “Thanks, Daddy. I’ll do that.”
“All right, princess.” The warmth returned to his tone. “Thanks for trusting me to give you advice about this. I’m glad you know you can call me with these kinds of problems. I’ll always be here for you.”
My throat tightened, and my eyes burned. “I know. I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too, sweetheart. Now, get moving. You don’t want to be later than you already are. And drink plenty of water.”
“I will,” I promised.
When I ended the call, my legs turned to jelly, and I sank down onto my couch. I buried my face in my hands, pressing my palms against my wet lashes to hold in the flood of tears that threatened to overwhelm me. I didn’t have time to fall to pieces. My reputation was on the line, and I couldn’t tell anyone the terrible truth about what had happened to me last night.
A text alert chimed, drawing an alarmed yelp from my chest. I grabbed at my phone like a lifeline, searching for something normal to hold on to.
A message from Isabel illuminated my screen, following up on her invite to the cantina. Had it only been twelve hours ago that she’d tried to cheer me up after my crappy day with Gavin?
I closed my eyes on a low groan. I would have to face my bully again today. My nerves were frazzled, and I wasn’t sure how I was going to make my excuses to my boss without tearing up. I hated disappointing people. I would have to endure Mr. Callahan’s censure and Gavin’s cruelty, all while pretending I hadn’t been tied to a chair in a basement and terrorized overnight.
For a moment, it was too much. A swell of ugly, dark emotions surged from deep within me, leaving my chest on a harsh sob. My body convulsed, all my residual terror overwhelming me.
Max’s face, twisted with rage and pain, filled my mind. He’d been terrifying in his fury, but his pain had been my salvation. I’d been right to think that he’d suffered something awful. Appealing to his humanity had saved me.
I gulped in several gasping breaths, my head spinning slightly from the rush of oxygen.
I’d survived being drugged and kidnapped. I could survive Mr. Callahan’s disappointment and Gavin’s bullying. I would survive it, because I didn’t have a choice.
Max would hurt my dad if I dared to unburden myself of the awful things that’d happened to me last night.
I squared my shoulders and swallowed hard, crushing all my tumultuous emotions into a tight ball and locking them away. Swiping the tears from my cheeks, I typed a quick message to Isabel, promising to meet up at the cantina after work tonight. Somehow, I would get through today. I would protect my father, no matter what. He was the only family I had left, and I would do anything to keep him safe.
I got to my feet and moved toward the bedroom on shaky legs, forcing myself to take each step. I had to try to be presentable for work, even if I was late.
I am strong. I am independent. I can do this. My mantra felt pathetically insufficient to cope with the aftermath of my abduction, but it was all I had. I repeated it over and over, willing the words to be true.
Chapter 3
Max
Warm blood splattered my cheek, leaving little sizzling marks that stoked the fiery hatred inside me. The man’s agonized screams didn’t bother me; he was less than human, and he didn’t deserve any compassion. He was Bratva scum, a drug dealer who beat his whores.
I welcomed the warmth of his blood on my face. The more dead Russians, the better. And if he had to suffer first, that was fine with me.
I’d seen what these animals were capable of. I’d been forced to witness their depravity firsthand when I was little more than a child.
My mother’s screams were a distant echo in the back of my mind. I slammed the door shut on those horrific memories, loathing the weakness that came over me whenever I fell prey to the past. I needed my body carefully under my control. Symptoms of primal fear couldn’t touch me. Not when I had a job to do. Not when my sadistic cousins were watching me with suspicion.
“What?” I demanded when Paulie glanced sidelong at me for the dozenth time this morning. It wasn’t like him to be distracted when he had the opportunity to torture someone.
I made men bleed when it was necessary; my cousins reveled in it.
“Where were you earlier?” Paulie’s head canted to the side, and he dropped his red-painted hands as he focused on me.
His twin, John, eagerly took his place. The meaty thud of his fist punching bloody flesh echoed dully through the warehouse where we’d strung up our enemy.
I lifted my chin, my cold gaze clashing with his merciless black eyes. “None of your fucking business.”
“I called you three times to help us pick up this bastard.” He landed a casual punch to the man’s wounded side, and the Russian howled in pain. “John and I had to bring him in on our own, and you didn’t get here until dawn.” A nasty little smile twisted his thin lips. “You know how your father hates when you shirk your responsibilities. I should tell him about this.”
I curled my mouth in a sneer, swallowing the flutter of panic in my chest. “Father hates little bitches who rat out their own. I’m his son. Who do you think he’ll side with?”
John released a low laugh between punches, half-listening to our conversation. “You’re a disgrace, and your old man knows it. We all know it. I don’t know why we even expected you to show your ugly face this morning. You don’t understand the first thing about family loyalty or responsibility.”
I stifled a growl, unwilling to let them see how hard that particular blow landed. Everything I’d done last night had been to prove my loyalty. I’d ignored their calls because I’d been questioning Alexandra. I’d planned to scare her into divulge her father’s secrets. Once Ron Fitzgerald knew that I had testimony of his crimes and could leak it at any time, he wouldn’t dare come after my family ever again. We would be free to reclaim what we’d lost.
And it would all be because of me. I would be a worthy heir. A worthy son.
My cousins would have no part in it. This was my mission. The glory would be mine and mine alone.
So, I couldn’t tell them where I’d been or why I’d ignored their calls.
“I’m here now.” My fingers tightened around the hilt of the knife that hung casually at my side, an extension of my arm. “I know my duty. Better than you two ever will.”