Page 8 of Taking

I waited, giving him time to pull up in front of the main entrance, my head consumed with the memories of that day in court. My hands fisted, rage twisting my insides up tight.

“She called you a lying jackass, a twisted pervert who deserved to rot in jail. She claimed you sexually abused her countless times and that if you hadn’t gotten put away for hurting her precious Devon, she would have told Ingrid everything you’d done to her—and charged you with statutory rape.”

That little whore…

My teeth clenched as I sucked oxygen through my nose while remembering how she’d strode out of the courtroom, her haughty chin lifted. “She lied. I never fucking touched her,” I all but spat, the anger on constant simmer in my gut hazing my vision. So much for my fucking self-control.

That spoiled princess got to me every goddamn time. Clouded my mind. Pissed me off.

“She gave her innocence to Devon that same night in our den while you lay on a hard cot facing ten long years in prison.”

I bit back a snarl at Lloyd’s words. Fucking cunt whore… “Thought you wanted that bit of flesh for yourself.”

Lloyd turned to face me fully, coolness in his eyes. “It was never about Addilyn—I truly adored Ingrid.”

“Liar,” I called him out, knowing I spoke the truth.

He narrowed his gaze but didn’t turn away. “Yes, I loved Addilyn—but as a daughter, not sexually. She reminded me of a young Ingrid, the only woman for me. How could I not notice her beauty? Her budding sexuality? That doesn’t mean I wanted to fuck my stepdaughter, Gideon.”

He spewed shit from between his lips, rehearsed lines in attempts to cover his greed, but none of that mattered any longer.

I had my plan, and while Lloyd showing up definitely switched things around for me as far as who would pay first, I could still accomplish what I’d been dreaming about for the past five years, what Twinkie and his boyfriend, Rogers, had helped me put together.

“Where is she?”

“Ingrid bought her a house not far from the university.” Lloyd handed me a folded piece of paper, making the task of finding her easier. “Take her, have your revenge, and call me when you’re done.”

“Done as in six feet under,” I asked, “or leave her a bloody mess of flesh for you to finish off?”

He grimaced but smoothed out his face in an attempt to appear unaffected by the violence that lay in the deepest part of my being. “I wish to have a final word with her, so I would prefer her in one piece.”

I dipped my head, shoving the paper into my coat pocket.

“Hotel.” Lloyd motioned toward the entrance with his chin. “Your room has been paid for through the end of the week. I have the same cell number, so call me once you’ve completed your job.”

Oh, I’d be calling him, alright. But it wouldn’t be with the news he expected.

3

Addilyn

“Leo has been asking about you.”

I glanced up from my toast, eyeing my only friend and roommate as she poured a cup of coffee. She turned and winked at me.

I rolled my eyes, annoyed I had to remind her of my truth. Again. “I’m all done with men.”

“He’s a sweetheart,” Ciarra told me, a phrase she’d tossed out countless times.

The kind of man who wouldn’t rouse my hormones no matter how hard he tried, no matter how good a kisser or gentle a lover he might be.

“Therapy hasn’t helped, so what makes you believe fucking another good guy will?” I asked and forced myself to take another bite of my bland breakfast.

She let out a sigh and wrapped her fleece robe tighter around her chest before sitting down across from me. “I think once you find the right person, things will be better for you.”

My throat tightened, and I studied my toast for the next bite I didn’t want to take but would anyway. I’d lost enough weight in the past couple of years. Any more, and the winter winds would blow me off my feet.

Ciarra knew about my past. Lloyd. The abuse. Mother and her jealousy.

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