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“No one is fucking my daughter.”
Adrenaline shot through my veins, raw terror coursing through them at the sound of my father’s voice. It was like a death knell. You heard that smoke-ruined voice, and the Reaper wasn’t far behind.
Heel and the Wolverines stepped aside to let their leader pass through. The sun glared down, throwing Walter Bates’s shadow across the warehouse floor. He puffed his newly lit cigar and walked slowly toward me.
“You have some nerve coming back here. Thought you’d finally figured out how to keep your legs closed. Guess I was wrong. Must’ve gotten tired of Devil dick. So. Which one pumped you full of betrayal?”
Around him, his Wolverine snickered like high schoolers.
My own father’s words were so vulgar, I wanted to throw up. I wanted to rip his tongue out of his throat.
But I refused to buckle under the weight of his gaze—one sharp blue, the other milky like smoke was trapped underneath. Real smoke curled up from his cigar.
“Glad to see you, Father,” I said. It felt like speaking poison. “I spread my legs as wide as possible to gain the Devils’ trust. I gave my body up to bring them down in our name.”
He only observed me, savoring his cigar like it was more important than his own daughter. “Doesn’t matter which one. All it took was a quick fuck—well, a subpar fuck,” I added, which made the Wolverines snicker again.
It hurt to talk about myself so low, but it was even worse to claim Knox was nothing to me when he really meant so much more. “It wasn’t easy to get them to trust me, but with some Bates charm to get them to?—”
“Why are you bleeding?”
I showed him my bloody palm. “They weren’t grateful for my double-crossing. I don’t know the name of whoever got the nick in. I’m fine. Doesn’t matter.”
I darkened my voice, walking toward him. “Vane took care of them, Father. Look for yourself.”
I gestured toward the two bodies of Mason and Brody—they had taken the worst beatings from Vane and were most convincingly dead. Walter eyed them, but when I thought he would approach, he jerked his head for his men to check.
Shit, Caroline, act fast.
“They don’t matter, either, Father,” I said loudly enough for the men to stop and look back questioningly whether to proceed or not. “Vane has a bone to pick with you over it.”
Walter snorted, waving off the men, who fell back in step behind him. “Why? He knows he’ll get his money.”
“He’d better. Black Jack is dead.”
A sudden, unnatural silence filled the warehouse. The Wolverines suddenly started whispering among themselves in shock, restless.
Walter’s eyebrows rose—that was the only indication of surprise. He had been attempting Black Jack’s murder for years. Now he learned about it as casually as announcing the weather.
“That so?” he said slowly.
I nodded. “I watched the light leave his eyes with my own, Father. Vane’s aim is impeccable—right through the Devil bastard’s chest. That stain?”
I pointed to the large bloodstain that came from Vane’s head. “Black Jack bled out right there. That’s Devil blood.”
Walter flicked his half-finished cigar on the ground. “Where are they?” he demanded. “Why isn’t Vane with you telling me this shit?”
“Jack’s body is in your office,” I told him smoothly. It was all too easy to lie when it was the truth. “Vane is watching over it. Bastard loves dramatics—wants to show you. He’s also trying to break one of the others while he waits.”
He barked a short, sharp laugh. “This, I gotta see. Take me to them, daughter. Once I see that Devil dead, we can bury his corpse where nobody will ever find him.”
I looped my arm in his when he offered it. It felt slimy and wrong. “Without Black Jack, we can finish off the remaining Devils, and you can be the undisputed king of Reno once again.”
“Of course I will,” Walter said with a dark chuckle. “His death is long overdue. With him gone, I can pay my sweet girl a visit.”
Disgust coiled in my stomach so violently that I really did almost vomit. Why is he so obsessed with Sam? I colored my voice with disdain. “Is she even worth it now, Father? She’s pregnant with Black Jack’s heir?—”
“I don’t give a shit,” Walter interrupted. Before I could apologize, he laughed. “There they are in that stupid little office. Look at those windows. Must have been a real shootout.”