Page 42 of Ruthless Redemption

Frank scoffed. “Houston will be unable to do anything.” He glanced down at his ten thousand dollar watch. “His time is up. He won’t be allowed to live long enough to say goodbye, let alone stop me. No, my dear stupid child, your mockery of a husband will be six feet under before the ink dries on this paper.”

He pulled a folded paper from his pocket and handed it to me.

I didn’t take it right away, as if touching it might burn me or worse. My heart had squeezed so tight I wasn’t sure it could beat properly the moment the chilling words about Houston’s death slapped me.

How could fate be so cruel to bring him into my life to make it end like this? If anyone deserved more from all of this it was him. He had to live.

“Might as well look at it. Your ability to disobey has ended.”

I balked and took a step back. “If you’re going to kill Houston and you’re going to kill me, why in the hell would I do anything for you?”

He shrugged. “I might let you live. Depends on how well you behave. Although you might have to get on your knees and suck cock for the rest of your life, but at least you won’t be dead.” He shrugged. “That will be up to Marco to decide. Like I told you, you belong to him now.”

Another uncontrollable shiver worked down my back. “What is wrong with you? Is there anything you care about besides money and making women suffer? How did you become such a black hearted misogynist?”

“Shut up,” he demanded turning his gun to point at the woman on the floor. “How about I start with her? She’s still alive, but doesn’t need to be. You can either sign that paper or I can start killing the people in this building one by one until you do.”

Fear shook through me. I had no doubt he would do exactly as he promised. But there had to be something I could do to buy myself some time. And there had to be a way to save Houston. I just needed a moment to think.

Before I could do anything he produced a pen and shoved it in my face. “Now, Isabella. Be the good little girl you were trained to be and do as you’re told.”

Do as I was told. Story of my life. I took one last glance at the woman on the floor and silently apologized for putting her life in more danger. But she was some sort of cop or FBI. That meant she’d volunteered to put her life on the line in situations like these. I couldn’t just acquiesce. The killing wouldn’t stop here.

“No. I’m not signing it until we’ve had time to negotiate. And if you shoot or kill that woman or any other person to teach me a lesson, I will never sign it. Not even for my own life.

“Oh and you should know. I have a will. In the event of my death, everything goes to my husband.” He started to speak but I cut him off. “Andif he doesn’t survive me then every cent goes to his motorcycle club. Good luck fighting them off. I have a feeling it will be you in the ground, not me. Or maybe we’ll go together. That would be poetic. Wouldn’t it, Father?”

When I finished, I remained perfectly still and waited for the explosion of Frank. I’d taken a huge risk with someone else’s life and I knew if that went badly I would never get over it. I would deserve whatever fate befell me.

The seconds ticked by. I held my breath. Frank stared so hard at me, I practically felt his hatred scrape against my skin.

“You’ve turned into quite the little bitch. Just like your mother. I had to teach her a lesson as well. Although in the end, she refused to learn and now she’s not with us.”

My head buzzed with the words and implications of what he’d said. It couldn’t mean what it sounded like. Could it?

“Are you saying?”

His face twisted in anger as he reached forward, grabbed my arm and pulled me close. The speed and pain with which he grabbed me taking me by surprise.

“I’m notsayinganything, Isabella. I’m telling you. This isn’t going to end any better for you than it did for her. I will never be told what to do by a woman. ”

Anger so swift and deep propelled me into action that I couldn’t have stopped if I’d wanted to. I slashed my fingernails across Frank’s face and neck as he tried to shove me away. He released my arm and the gun swung wildly, but I couldn’t concern myself with that. He’d just basically admitted that he’d killed or had my mother killed.

I shoved at the man I’d called father until he stumbled and fell against the nearby wall. With no hesitation, I dove after him. He would not get away with his heinous crimes. Never.

“You bastard!” Spittle flew from my mouth and landed on his face as I curled my right hand into a fist and slammed it against his mouth. I did the same with my left and then my right again. I couldn’t stop as blood spurted from his wounds. Not even the sound of something crunching underneath my knuckles or the sharp pain it came with could stop me from my attack.

“You killed my mother!” I yelled with tears streaming down my face. We were practically on the ground now with me straddling his lap as I hammered away at his chest and face. As pain sliced through me I wanted him to hurt as much, if not more.

No. I wanted him to die. I shifted my stance and wrapped my hands around his throat. He grabbed at me, but my anger and pain-fueled tempest gave me more strength than I could imagine and he was unable to pull my hands free.

When he realized I wasn’t letting go he changed tactics and began attacking my torso, but his blows were weakened. Or maybe I wasn’t fazed. There wasn’t anything he could do to me now that I hadn’t already endured.

The only way to make it all stop would be to end it right here. Right now.

His eyes were bulging and the pain in my chest was nothing compared to the pain slicing through my brain as I witnessed the fear settle over my father’s face. He was dying—at my hands. He could never hurt me—

“That’s enough!” someone yelled as I was pulled off of Frank. “You can’t kill him.”

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