Page 71 of Frenemies

I swallowed back the snarky comment climbing up my throat. The time for gaslighting was over, but did I want to tell him it was Daddy’s file? That’s what I came here for, wasn’t it? Because Chase might be the one person that could help me.

But how? It wasn’t like my father had stolen a chocolate bar from the local store—he stole people. Most people would want him dead. Hell, a part of me hated him for it, but he was still my father.

I looked over at Chase, tapping his foot impatiently, and asked, “What are you going to do?”

“What the fuck do you think I’m going to do?”

Kill whoever put that list together.

“What if the person who put that file together was important?”

“I don’t give a shit if he’s the goddamn president.” He stopped and cocked a brow down at the word written across the front of the folder.Aurora. “You got this from your father’s office, didn’t you?”

My gaze fell down as I gave a silent nod. I couldn’t look at him and admit that someone in my family was involved in something like this. That, and it hid the tears brimming in my eyes.

“So that’s what Jax has been up to.” He let out a long huff. “Explains why Louis contacted me.”

Wait. What?

My eyes snapped back on Chase. Logan said I had two days. Bastard, I should’ve known that he wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut. How much time did Daddy have now? Was Louis already hunting him down?

The cold spikes of fear shooting through my veins caused me to blurt out, “You have to save him.”

“You’re fucking kidding?” Chase’s brow arched.

Before I could think about it, I was up and across the room, clutching onto his arm in desperation. “Please, Chase.”

“Naomi. . . ”

I cut him off and pleaded, “He’s my father.”

The same man that tucked me in at night. He taught me how to walk like a woman and how to hold my head up despite what other people said. Well, his words were more along the lines of “Don’t show weakness, Naomi.” But still.

My hope grew when Chase cupped my face and gazed deep into my eyes, then died when he spoke.

“Your father sold little girls,” he swept his thumb over my cheek, smearing a tear across my skin. “I’m sorry, Babe, but he has to die.”

My hand flew up, striking him in the face. “Screw you, Chase.”

“Tell me something, Princess.” He stepped up and got right in my face. “Was it Daddy that told you, you had to be perfect before leaving the house?”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to look good.” I paused to give him a quick scan. “You should try it sometime.”

Chase huffed out a condescending snicker. “Did it ever occur to you that he was grooming you for sale?”

Oh, fuck him.

“You don’t seem to mind the way I look,” I snarled while dropping my gaze to the obvious hard-on he had.

“I love the way you look.” He grabbed my arm and pulled up against him. “But I never wanted to fuck you more than I did that day you walked in on me in the shower.”

Was that supposed to be a compliment? Why? Because he saw me without make-up and still wanted me? Big deal. I was hot. He knew it, and I knew it. I just looked better done up.

I tore my arm out of his grip and snarled, “I hope you held onto that fantasy because you’re never touching me again.” And I spun around.

I didn’t need Chase or anyone else—I’d figure this out all on my own. Wouldn’t be the first time.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

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