Page 74 of Hunted Obsession

This man does paperwork, but that’s about it. What he doesn’t do is deal with any part of the buying and selling of children where he actually sees their faces.

“Give me the information on Ravet, and I won’t torture you,” I offer.

The tears begin to flow down his cheeks, but he doesn’t say the words. Making atskingsound with my teeth and tongue, I lean forward. My lips curl in disgust. I’m seconds away from twisting his goddamn neck.

I am so over this shit.

I want Ravet at my feet.

I want to watch him suffer.

“An unknown number would text me instructions. I did those requests, which were mostly paperwork that Emmie helped me with. Transferring funds, sending invitations. But all of this was done with a burner phone and an unknown number.”

At least they weren’t complete idiots. Except, I’m pretty sure we can get information off that phone. “Where is the phone?” I demand.

“The gallery. Locked in a drawer in my office,” he rasps.

I lift my hand. I know there is nothing else he can or will tell me. It’s obvious that this is everything he has. Pressing the knife against his neck, I slowly bury it inside of him, watching as the knife sinks into his throat. His screams are lost, and that makes me smirk.

“You will never hurt another child again,” I whisper.

Straightening, I turn to Boden. “Burner phone at the gallery. I don’t know what we’ll find on it, but that’s all he had to offer me.”

Grayson moves toward Callen Drake. He’s been quiet in this. He doesn’t own a gallery. He’s a completely silent partner at the club. There wasn’t much on him as far as background goes, although I know I didn’t dig too awfully deeply into him. It all makes me wonder who exactly he is—and what he knows.

Because it is something.

“And now that you’re the last man standing, pray tell, what do you know?”

Callen presses his lips together, jerking his chin upward slightly. He looks down his nose at me in an attempt to be a badass. It doesn’t work. He’s not that. He’s not even brave. What he is, is a fuckin’ piece of shit.

Reaching down, I wrap my fingers around the front of his throat and squeeze. He stares at me but doesn’t say a single word. His eyes don’t show fear, either, which is nothing like Asher and Ron. He is the one in charge. He’s not Ravet, but he’s the one with the direct line.

I can’t kill him.

At least not yet.

Chapter Thirty-Three

LUCILLE

I’ve never wantedto fuck Theron more than I do in this moment. He’s got blood on his hands again and has never looked sexier. I want to climb him and throw him down on this floor as I ride him in front of every person in this room, dead or alive.

Vaughn moves away from me toward Theron. He reaches out to grasp his bicep before he shakes him gently. Theron turns his head, his eyes finding Vaughn’s. I watch as they exchange words, then Theron releases Callen’s throat even though it looks like it goes against every grain in his body to do that.

I want to run up to them. I don’t know why, but I feel like I need to be in the middle of this. My tongue slips out, and I run it along my bottom lip as I try to hold back. Callen knows things, but he’s not telling them, and I find it frustrating.

Theron spins on his heels, then closes the distance between us. Forgetting all about Callen as he approaches, I lift my hand and press my palm against the center of his chest. Tipping my head back slightly, I look up into his eyes.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

He shakes his head once, then dips his chin slightly before he touches his mouth to mine. Wrapping my arms around him, I keep him close to me. I don’t want him to go anywhere, not ever again. I wish he could stay right here until the day I die.

“I’m fine,” he murmurs.

He’s not.

The rage that fills me at those two words—I’m fine—is more than I can contain, but before I say a single word, his mouth slams against mine in a hard kiss. I grip the strands of hair at the back of his head and hold him against me.

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