Page 39 of Torment

“And it will be,” James said. “You’ve been running for years from this bastard. Tomorrow, it will all be over.”

Hunter tore his glare away from Colton. “By the fucking way. Should we not be getting his ass arrested tomorrow? Or even better—kill his ass?”

James shook his head. “God knows I want nothing more than to skin that bastard alive, but, unfortunately, we need him.”

“For what?”

“Like I said, he has already established some deep connections. Connections that we haven’t been able to get. We need him.”

And then Hunter let out a loud, mocking laugh. “You’re joking, right? Please tell me you’re fucking joking.”

James kept a straight face. “Unfortunately, I’m not.”

“The son of a bitch raped your daughter, and you’re telling me you’re going to do nothing?”

Scarlet felt like her gut had been instantly filled with concrete. Flashes of the scenes that took place in the barn years ago infested her mind, tearing at her insides. She hated when that happened. It was like she had to use all her energy just to be able to push those memories aside.

James squared his shoulders. “Like I said, we need him.”

“How the hell are you planning on using his connections anyway? It’s not like he’s going to offer them up to you on a silver…” Hunter paused, and Scarlet watched as he glanced from James to Colton, and then back to James. It was like she could literally see the wheels turn inside his head.

“That’s why soldier boy is taking her tomorrow, isn’t it?” Hunter glanced at Colton again. “You’re using this opportunity to establish your own damn connection…withhim.”

“I will not discuss this any further,” James said sternly. “You and Riggs are taking her to the lawyers tomorrow to get those documents signed, and then you’re bringing her straight back here. We’ll think about future plans once all this is done.”

Scarlet would be lying if she said that hearing all of this didn’t make her nervous. This was not part of the plan, and if Hunter hadn’t been the observant fucker that he was, James probably never would have shared this tidbit of information with them.

Hunter went to stand in front of James’s desk and leaned forward. “If anything—and I mean anything—goes wrong tomorrow, I am holding you responsible.” He inched forward some more. “And if she so much as breaks a fucking nail, I will break your goddamn spine.”

Scarlet had had enough. Enough of all the threats and hearing how everyone was going to kill everyone.

She stood up from the couch. “I need air.”

“Where are you going?” Hunter rushed toward her.

“I’m can’t stay cramped up in this place a second longer.”

Colton snorted. “Cramped up? Scarlet, this is a twenty-eight-bedroom estate.”

Hunter glared his way. “I couldn’t get her to stay one day at a luxury mansion in Winnetka without following her ass to a damn bar. Consider yourself lucky she’s stayed put here for the last two days.”

Scarlet glowered at him. “You’re so fucking funny—not.”

He smirked, and, unfortunately, she noticed how fucking sexy that smirk of his was. Even with all the cuts and bruises on his face—which made him seem even more badass than he already was—that smirk would be her fucking undoing. Clenching her thighs was like an automatic response whenever that devilish grin appeared on his face.

Fuck.

“Fuck air, I need a drink.” She stomped out of the office and straight to the little man-cave-bar Colton showed her the day before.

Jack had better be there.

The need to consume her weight in alcohol was so strong, Scarlet flung open the door with such force it slammed against the wall.

A glass filled with whiskey was ready for her in five point two seconds flat.

This twenty-eight-bedroom mansion was starting to feel like a damn prison. Not to mention the so-called rehabilitation center next door, which Scarlet hadn’t seen yet…and probably never would. According to James, there were girls there, but the only girl she’d seen since they arrived was Lily—the girl who always brought fresh towels.

“Are you planning on keeping that bottle to yourself?”

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