Page 120 of Ink's Devil

I close my eyes, trying to block out everything except thoughts of Ink. Wondering what would have happened if Connor had never left those drugs in our house. Would we have continued our relationship? Would there have ever been a chance he’d have made me his old lady? It’s an impossible dream, but better to cling onto than consider the reality that’s facing me now. I hope he really does hate me, then he wouldn’t get upset when he finds out I’m gone.

Mom. I’ve tried to ignore the thought that she must be going crazy. She’s supposed to be burying her son, now she’s lost her daughter as well.

The journey seems to go on forever and the men won’t stop talking. I want to scream,Shut up. I don’t want to hear any more lack of respect for women. I don’t want to know what it’s like to force your cock into an unwilling partner. But I stay silent, knowing they’re only trying to taunt me.

It’s not even a relief when we finally draw up to some gates which seem to slide open automatically. Phil’s lair, I suppose. I have a sense of being about to jump out of the frying pan and into the fire. All I can hope is that I don’t get burned too badly.

My father has arrived before us. I’m shown into a pleasantly furnished room. He’s standing in front of a fireplace holding a glass of something which is either whiskey or brandy, but I don’t get to know as he offers nothing to me. One of the men who’d brought me in, closes the door with himself this side of it, as if emphasising I can’t escape.

My father takes a sip of his drink and then waves the glass toward me. “What’s your relationship with the Satan’s Devils?”

“My boyfriend rides with them.” He knows that already. “Other than that, I have none.”

His eyes narrow. “Why the fuck did you give eight kilos of heroin to them? Heroin that was mine.”

I shrug. “They just came and took them. I wasn’t at home.” Again, the truth.

Suddenly he puts down his glass and strides toward me. “Who told them where they were? You?”

My brother’s dead, there’s nothing more Phil can do to him. He might as well take the blame. “I don’t know, Connor perhaps? Maybe Connor had worked out a deal with them?”

“Connor wouldn’t have been so stupid,” he spits into my face. “He knows the Devils don’t deal in drugs.” His hands twitch at his sides, and for a second, I fear he’s going to hit me. Then, as if making an effort to control himself, he turns and says, as if he’s voicing an idea, “I suppose anyone can change their views for that amount of money.” He’s quiet for a moment, then accuses, “I think you know a lot more than you’re saying.”

In truth, I don’t. The Devils took the drugs because I told them they were there, and we wanted them out of the house. What they did with them, or plan to do with them is a mystery. I tell him a version of that. “I don’t care what happened to the illegal substances. Had Connor told us what was there, we wouldn’t have allowed him to leave it.”

“Don’t fucking care about something with a street value close to a million dollars?” His eyes widen in disbelief, and his jaw clenches betraying his anger.

I shrug. “Heroin kills people.”

He snorts. “It kills people, whoever distributes it. I assure you, my naïvedaughter,whoever took it will sell it and walk away withmymoney.”

He’s right. Most people would. But I know in my gut the Devils wouldn’t.

“What are you going to do if the Devils don’t give the drugs back?”

He stares at me as if I’m stupid. “You better fucking hope they do.” His eyes flash me a warning. “But if they don’t? I’ll take them, of course. They can’t have shifted that volume already. No one gets away with crossing me. But what am I going to do about you either way is another question.” He eyes me in a manner I don’t like, then goes back and picks up his glass, saying over his shoulder, “Don’t think for a moment this is a fond family reunion, and don’t bother playing on our relationship. I already got burned when I took your brother under my wing. I left you when you were a kid, never wanted to know about you. Thought Connor might have been useful, but he fucked up. I don’t think of either of you as family. You got that, Bethany?”

It’s hard to hear, but I’d already guessed there was nothing humane in him to appeal to. I nod.

“So you think on that. If you know more than you’re telling me, if this was some plot you and your brother cooked up with the Satan’s Devils to steal from me, my men will get it out of you. If you don’t have anything useful to offer, then you’re going to wish you had.”

There’s a chuckle from the man standing behind me.

I go cold as I read between the lines.

“But tonight, I’ll see what Patsy gets up to. I’ll give her a chance to get my drugs back.” A twisted grin comes onto his face. “Straitlaced Patsy will have to walk into an outlaw MC if she wants her daughter back. Whether she’ll walk out alive is another matter entirely. Men like that,” he shakes his head, “don’t care who they step on. And don’t get your hopes up, a million dollars is a fucking lot of money. They won’t give it up for a woman, I can tell you that. But if she hasn’t contacted them already, I may need to send her a finger to prompt her. George, show her to the guest room, will you?”

The casual mention of cutting off one of my fingers is terrifying. He doesn’t care about the danger he thinks he’s put my mom in, forcing her to ask favours of an MC. I didn’t know men as evil as him existed.

“Want me to keep her company?”

My father looks over my shoulder for a moment while I forget to breathe. Surely, he wouldn’t let his men rape me?

But he seems to give it some consideration. “Not tonight. Time for that later. Let’s see if the Devils make contact. We might need her… undamaged… to tempt them to hand the drugs over. Unlikely, but possible.”

“Shame,” I hear from behind.

There’s another man waiting outside in the hallway with what I can only describe is a look of anticipation on his face. George gives a rueful shake of his head in his direction, then points me to the stairs and follows me as I ascend.

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