Page 68 of Mimic
“Indie?”
She peeked up at King. I expected fear, tears maybe. I didn’t expect fire and anger. My cock stiffened, biting into my zipper as I watched her glare at King.
“Did you know?” King asked.
Indie sat up straighter, gave King an innocent look, and asked, “Know what?”
King glared at her, waiting for her to answer. When it was clear he wasn’t giving up, Indie’s shoulders slumped, and she nodded.
“I didn’t know he was in a club. I haven’t seen him since I was four years old.”
“How did you know it was him?” Cash asked. “A lot of time has passed.”
“Because you never forget the man who repeatedly raped your mother,” Indie said, her eyes filled with hatred. Maybe Indie and I had more in common than either of us realized.
King sat forward; his hands clasped together on the table. This was his non-threatening stance. It was the one he used to try to put people at ease. I could have told him he was a scary motherfucker and nothing he did would put people at ease. Not once they got to know him.
“He wants you back.”
“I won’t go.”
King smiled, “I’m glad to hear that. Because as far as yourfatheris concerned, you are Mimic’s old lady and under our protection.”
“What?” she whispered. Her eyes jerked to mine before turning back to King.
“I had to tell him something. Your being an old lady was the only option to not turning you over. I won’t let you run. He’d just go after you. But I need to know everything, Indie.”
Indie chewed her bottom lip, and I wondered what she was thinking. When she looked up at King, she asked, “Can I speak to you alone?”
They had been in church for over an hour. Just King, Cash, and Indie. Not even Nav had been allowed to stay, and he’d been instructed to turn the cameras off.
When King finally called the officers back into church, Indie sat at the table, her hands in her lap, and Cash by her side. She was leaning into him as if he were comforting her, and my blood began to boil.
“Get your fucking hands off my old lady,” I growled at my VP. Indie looked up with panic in her eyes, as I glared at Cash. I wanted to punch the smirk off his face as he stood from the chair he was sitting in.
I let him slide by. Choosing to focus on Indie rather than having my sister pissed at me for decking her old man, I sat down next to her and turned her chair.
“What the fuck’s going on?”
She turned her head away, refusing to look at me. I grasped her chin in an effort to force her, but she pulled away.
“Mimic, take your seat, please,” King ordered.
“No.” My eyes never left Indie’s face. She might not want to look at me, but she couldn’t stop me from looking at her.
“Goddammit, Mimic,”
“It’s okay,” Indie whispered.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up. Her voice was sullen, defeated. Like she’d given up fighting. What the hell was she fighting? Me? I fucking hoped she would stop fighting me. I wanted her like I had never wanted anything in my life.
“Indie, would you like to tell them what you told Cash and me? Or would you prefer we told them?”
She took a deep breath and turned her chair away, so she was focused on the table once again. Then she began.
“I was kidnapped from a mall in Arizona when I was four years old. I was taken to a place I didn’t know, to live with people I had never met. The place I lived in was set up much like dorm rooms. There were a dozen of us. All between the ages of three and six. I was there for ten years before I was rescued.”
“Where did you live, Indie?” Gunner asked, his voice rough with emotion. He knew the answer. Hell, I fucking knew the answer. I didn’t want to hear her say it. I silently begged her not to say it.
