Page 69 of Sinister Lies

I nodded, my jaw stiff. “Yes. I-I remember.”

“Excellent. No time to waste now, boys. Follow me. We have much to discuss.”

He started for the door, opening it wide so Finn could enter first. As I staggered in behind them, I was taken aback to find two armed Outlaws waiting for us.

“Take her to the basement,” Father demanded. “I need to give my two best men here a tour.”

I inhaled a snort.Best men? What the fuck ever. Go blow that smoke up someone else’s ass.

Wordlessly, the Outlaws complied. One guy eagerly took her out of Finn’s white-knuckled grasp and the other departed behind them.

“Jace, my boy. Take a look around. A lot has changed since your childhood.”

My rage flared as I took slow, uneven steps across the hardwood floor and turned left, towards the living room.

It was gone. All of it. Their furniture. The portraits of them and framed photos of me as a child. Thousands of dollars’ worth of valuables. It was all just fucking gone.

Two of the largest sectionals I’d ever seen in my life were planted on opposite sides of the room. In the heart were two stripper poles, and ahead was a freshly built bar that branched out to fit the entire length of the living room. It was stockpiled ladder high with nothing but top-shelf booze.

I kept my face hard as I spun on my injured heel and did a quick sweep over the dining room.

Another bar. Another pole. Sectionals. Small tables scattered around with little chairs stacked on top.

“What the fuck did you do?!” I asked in a dangerous whisper.

“This, my son, is what securing our future and keeping our crew happy looks like.” He released a dark chuckle, grinning so big I could see his rotten wisdom teeth. “This is far from the best part. The real party takes place elsewhere.”

Father departed for the grand staircase, stopping halfway up to glare at me and Finn over his large shoulder. Finn raised his brows in a way that expressed four little words I would’ve slapped off his tongue if he’d said them aloud.

I fixed my scowl back in place as Father ascended the stairs and turned left, down the second level of the house. When we made it there, I swallowed as I took in all the doors missing from each of the rooms. Curtains now occupied the spaces.

Father stopped halfway down the hall and leaned against the wall, by one of the middle bedrooms. I bristled as the sounds of soft whimpers and gasping moans invaded my ears the closer Finn and I approached.

“Go ahead,” Father insisted with a dark smile, his eyes glistening. “See for yourself.”

Finn made the first move and slid the curtain aside, and my eyes couldn’t help but burn in horror at the graphic view. A young girl, barely eighteen, was sitting on the edge of a chair, fully exposed. Her hands were raised high above her head, shackled by chains connected to the ceiling. Her thighs were spread open wide with some random man’s head between her legs. He was knuckle deep in her pussy, drilling them into her while his mouth feasted greedily on her clit.

Her skin was pale, and her body was saturated in sweat. Ugly splotches from blown veins were visible on both her forearms, open evidence that she’d been heavily drugged. Another random guy who I hadn’t noticed was in the room, sprung forward from the bed, bare from the waist down. He keenly stroked his dick and licked his lips as the girl came with an ugly, shattered cry.

I finally tore my eyes away from the scene when he knocked the other guy away from her so he could have his turn. Finn looked like he’d just swallowed down a gallon of vomit, and Father? All the sick fuck did was give us the smuggest of grins I’d ever seen spread across his desirably punchable face.

“There are two more girls on the upper levels who are also entertaining clients. This is just a trial run, but if our clients come out pleased—and I’m more than self-assured they will—then we’ll have a full house of girls stationed here tonight.”

“You mean sex slaves,” I muttered in a low, unhinged baritone.

“Potato, pa-tot-o,” he horribly enunciated with a careless shrug.

“And the woman down in the basement?” Finn asked him. “Will she suffer the same fate as the others?”

Father’s face lit up, like for a split moment he’d forgotten all about Cindy. “That, Finn, depends solely on her. Speaking of which, it’s time I pay the bitch a visit. For the meantime, feel free to look around, drink, or hell, join in on some of the fucking fun.”

And then he walked away, leaving us to listen to the desperate cries from the girl getting brutally raped in the room behind us.

My chest heaved as the rage consumed me, gathering dark, bloody speckles in the corners of my eyes.

“Jace,” Finn said worriedly, though the warning was present in his tone. “Don’t.”

But it was too late. As Father descended the staircase, I felt it the moment it happened. When the nerve holding all of my sense of control intact finally fucking snapped.

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