Page 51 of Quarterback Keeper

“The real accounting books are out there.”

“There’s no proof. Everything from twenty years ago is erased, gone.”

“Oh, Dad, rookie mistake. Don’t you know the internet is forever?”

He stood, towering over me, which I couldn’t allow.

I uncurled from my chair and matched his six-foot-three height. “I have names, dates, and a money trail that links you to Honeycutt and the scam. You’ll have to repay the money and possibly face jail time.”

“That money never existed. It’s all smoke and mirrors.” His tone turned threatening. “The apartment building your mother lives in is built on that property. You do anything, and she’ll suffer.”

“As of two hours ago, she doesn’t live there anymore.” I’d enlisted Ares and Liam to help move Mom, and we’d gotten everything done by maxing my credit cards. We’d left thefurniture behind. It was all beyond old, and I’d made sure she had a new set, soon to be delivered. I paid extra for the bed to arrive that day. “I’ve made sure you can never threaten her again. Your accommodations inside a federal prison won’t allow it.”

“I see I’ve taught you well. It’s a good bluff.”

He looked proud, and I almost vomited in my mouth. What a sick, twisted fuck. I estimated the time. Another arrest should be happening currently. “I’m nothing like you, and I’m not bluffing. Turn on the TV. A news break should be showing the feds hauling Honeycutt out of his office building in cuffs right about now.”

When he didn’t move for the remote, I went to the credenza on the far wall, pressed the control’s power button, then turned the station to the appropriate channel and turned up the volume. Sound blasted through Dad’s office as a reporter narrated footage of a cuffed Honeycutt being led from his house by the feds.

Dad remained frozen while the reporter’s voice detailed the events as they unfolded. “Authorities have received new information about a land scam perpetrated twenty years ago by Harland Maxwell Honeycutt and another investor not yet named by the authorities.”

Instead of watching the TV, I observed the color leach from Dad’s face. He had seconds of freedom left.

“I’m not worried about that. The fool probably incriminated himself somehow. It’s good you didn’t get mixed up with Melanie.”

“She has nothing to do with this.” I needed that on record, not that she required saving but because I wouldn’t let him taint anyone else on his fall from power. “You don’t have much time. I need you to know that Mom and I are done with you. Our connection is severed as of this moment.”

His lips peeled back, and he sneered. “You’ve got nothing on me.”

The office door burst open, and agents swarmed inside. I stepped back, giving them more room.

Dad spat a parting threat my way as the officers read him his rights while slapping cuffs on him. “This isn’t over,son. I’ll be out by dinner.”

That might be true, but it would be a long time before he could wreak havoc on any life but his own, and that was all I cared about. Well, not all.

I’d needed to make things right because I’d figured out something vital—Aurora was my endgame.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

AURORA

The first hit came out of nowhere. Dayton cupped the side of my head and slammed it into the wall as we descended into the sailboat’s cabin. I should have expected it, but I’d grown soft. The white-hot fear I’d lived with for so long had faded due to how safe I’d felt in Kylian’s presence.

I’d had a slight reprieve as darkness surrounded me. But I wasn’t unconscious anymore, and it wouldn’t be long before he realized that. I used the gift of time and cataloged my surroundings. My hands weren’t bound, and I was still wearing clothes—small favors. I ignored the intense pounding in my head and waves of dizziness.

The softness beneath me meant I was lying on a bed, but the sound from the TV told me I wasn’t in the primary bedroom. Dayton probably didn’t like the idea of Kylian and me sharing that bed. He wouldn’t go anywhere near it.

I didn’t hear Dayton—but I felt him looming over me. A fresh wave of terror washed through me. I opened my eyes, my fear realized when a slow grin curved Dayton’s cruel mouth.

“Welcome back to the living, my little fallen angel.”

He brushed some of my hair behind my ear, and bile climbed my throat. I lurched up and hurried to the far end of the bed.

Mistake. He despised rejection. With a roar, Dayton slammed his fist into my face. Pain exploded in its wake, and a metallic taste coated my tongue.

A whimper escaped my swollen, bloody lips. Dayton didn’t like it when I made a sound while he was punishing or “teaching” me. My cry of pain ignited another wave of fury. He grabbed me by the hair, yanking me off the bed. I scrambled with my hands and feet to stand or at least keep up with him to relieve the pressure on my scalp. I tripped and fell behind him as he dragged me into the main room before releasing me.

I hit the floor and swallowed the cry that stretched my throat to uncomfortable degrees. One second then another, and I flattened my hands on the floor and pushed myself up. On my feet, I held my position, waiting to see what he would do.

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