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Chapter Twenty-Three

TRISTAN

“How long have you been here?” a nurse asks from beside me. Her raven hair is pulled back into a ponytail. She has on scrubs covered in hearts, and the pink color of the scrubs stands out compared to the dull bland room of beige around us.

“I’m not leaving.” I look back at Raelyn in the bed, staring lifelessly out the window, her eyes never moving. A permanent frown mars her beautiful lips.

A couple hours ago, local police came in and took her statement. John, Phoenix’s friend from the FBI, came in to do the same. Well, not officially, as he put it. He doesn’t have jurisdiction right now, because it’s at the local level. That doesn’t mean he’s not looking into it on his own time.

“You’ll never get him to leave,” Drew says as he walks in. “So just let him be.”

The nurse hums in disapproval but says nothing more as she checks Raelyn’s vitals. Good. Because Drew is right. I’m not leaving.

“Rae?” Drew slowly approaches her. “How is she doing?” He looks between me and the nurse.

“She is a bit catatonic. But she should come out of it once the shock wears off. Her head wound was thankfully not that bad. But the doctor will come in and fill you in.” The nurse types something in the computer and then leaves.

A few seconds after she departs the room, Kayce and Cameron come in. I groan at the sight of Cam. I know he doesn’t want to be here, so I don’t know why he bothers to show up.

“What’s the verdict?” Cam asks.

I watch Raelyn as Cam speaks. She flinches slightly at the sound of his voice. She told me her nightmare had Cam in it, but she didn’t go into specifics.

I held her until she fell back asleep. Letting her cry on my chest, trying to calm her shaking. I have no idea why she feels comfortable with me or why I feel drawn to protect her, but that’s what’s happening. And I’m not fighting it.

“We’re waiting on the doctor,” Drew states with a shrug.

“Do we know anything?” Kayce asks softly.

“Thankfully, the hit to the head wasn’t bad. But that’s kinda all we know.” Drew runs a hand down his face. “Her state right now is that of shock. She should come out of it soon.”

Kayce comes over to the bed. “Hey, Rae, doll, it’s Kayce. You’re gonna be okay. I promise to cook you whatever you want when we get you home. I will even let you win a game of pool.”

“Only one game?” Drew smirks.

“I have a reputation to uphold.” Kayce shrugs.

“Home,” she says so incredibly quiet, you almost don’t hear it.

“Yeah, baby girl, home.” Kayce rubs her hand comfortingly.

She shakes her head. “That’s not home.”

Her words cause my eyes to widen at the revelation, and so does everyone else’s. Does she remember something? Holy shit, she remembers something. On instinct, I stand up, waiting for her next words.

“Rae? Where’s home then?” Drew keeps a hand on her leg, softly stroking it.

She’s quiet for a moment as if she is thinking hard on her answer. But then the words come out effortlessly. “New York.”

Drew’s head snaps to mine. Our eyes meet. She is starting to remember. But she’s not from Las Vegas, so how did she get here? Was she out here visiting? Vacationing? Did she get trafficked all the way from New York?

“What else do you remember, Rae?” Kayce studies her. “Talk to us.”

But she just shakes her head. Either she doesn’t remember, or she doesn’t want to talk about it. But before we can push for any more answers, the doctor comes in.

“Raelyn, how are we feeling?” he asks kindly, rolling up the sleeves of his white coat as he assesses her.

She doesn’t answer him. She just continues to stare out the window.

“Can you tell us what happened?” Drew walks closer to the doctor.

“Well, first, I’m Dr. Chamberlin. And you four are?” He raises his eyebrows.

“Her family,” I grunt out in response. I’m not in the mood for policy semantics.

He doesn’t look like he believes that, but he lets it go. “Hmm. I see. Okay, well, Raelyn, can I discuss what happened with ‘your family’?” Raelyn gives him a slight nod.

See, asshole? Her fucking family.

“So, the wound on her head wasn’t that deep. Head wounds tend to bleed more, so they look worse than they are. She will probably have a pretty bad headache for a few days, but we will give her some meds to help with the pain. The bruising around her neck should fade over time.”

“When can she leave?” I cut in.

The doctor hesitates. “Well, you have to watch her. She does have a concussion, so someone will need to monitor her and watch for signs that it’s getting worse or something has changed.”

“We will.” I nod to the doctor. “When can she leave?” I repeat my question.

“I can get her discharged soon. I take it she will be going home with you?” He peers at me, but I glance at Drew.

“Home,” she whispers like she’s putting a wish out there.

“Yeah, we will watch over her. We have the team doctor coming over to help make sure that nothing gets worse,” Drew offers up.

“Okay. I will get the paperwork ready to get her out of here.” Dr. Chamberlin nods and heads back out the door.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I internally groan because I know who it is.

Assfuck:

You’d better be here by 8. Don’t make me come and get you.

Me:

You would need 7 guys to even try to contain me. So good luck with that.

Assfuck:

I don’t need 7 guys, I need one bullet that will end your baseball career. Which is something I probably should have done years ago. 8, son. Don’t be late. Or else.

I don’t bother to respond. He is giving me no choice but to show up at the club. Fuck me.

“You okay?” Kayce tilts his head to the side as he studies me.

“Sperm donor wants to see me at the club.”

“Need backup?” Kayce offers.

I shake my head. The last thing I need is to let Kayce fall into my father’s crosshairs. “No. You focus on Rae.” I look down at my watch and see that it’s already six. I need to head home and shower before I head to the club.

I stand up and walk over to Rae. She slowly turns her head toward me.

“I will see you back at Drew’s, okay?” I assure her.

She nods and then turns back to staring out the window.

I have no idea what my fucking father wants, but whatever it is, I can guarantee it’s some bullshit. Nothing good ever comes from a meeting with that sorry bastard.

Not a damn thing.

“You’re late,” my father bellows as he sits behind his desk.

His office is minimalist at best. All black furniture with red accent walls.

The furniture is multipurpose. There are “O” rings in strategic places to be tied to.

It’s essentially a cave for whores to sneak into and get used by him. What a father figure I have.

I look up at his black hair slicked back. Like he is part of the mob. My jawline is very similar to his, and I hate that I can see him when I see me. His suit is all in black, neatly pressed. To anyone else, he looks like a well-dressed man. To me, he’s a complete fucking slime ball piece of shit.

“I show up on my time, not yours.” I narrow my eyes at him, crossing my arms from where I stand across from him.

“Sure, son. I’ll let you think that. Just know I’ll make sure you realize your mistake.” It’s a threat. But these days he doesn’t scare me. If he takes me out, he takes me out. Doesn’t mean I won’t go down without a fight.

“What do you want?” I grit out.

My father laughs. “What? I can’t just want to see and talk to my son?”

I don’t bother responding. Because we both know that isn’t what he wants.

My father takes a sip of the amber drink in front of him. Then he looks down at his lap, and I instantly know what he’s looking at. “You can go.”

Before my eyes, a small brunette woman pops up from under his desk. And that shouldn’t surprise me, yet here I am with wide eyes watching her straighten her black dress as I hear a zipper sound come from where my father is sitting. My stomach turns at the sound and sight before me.

The woman who has visible red marks on her knees clears her throat and wipes around her mouth. She gives me a flirty smile as she walks toward the door to leave. Does he have a revolving door of mouths for these blow jobs?

I grimace at the thought of her thinking she even has a chance that I would go anywhere near her with my cock. I wouldn’t go near her in a hazmat suit.

My father lets out a sigh and stands up. He takes a moment to adjust his black slacks and grabs his drink. Slowly, and with a calculating look on his face, he walks to the front of his desk. Leaning back against it, I watch him take another sip from his drink and then set it down.

“You have your initiation into the circle in three weeks.”

“Wait, what?” My body tenses. The last thing I want is to be a part of the Society.

He glares at me, his eyes boring into mine. “You heard me. You will finish your initiation into the Society. It has been dragged on for long enough.”

“The fuck I am. I’ve told you this before, I want nothing to do with your little boys’ club.” I clench my fists, my anger starting to boil over.

He lets out a little chuckle. “A little boys’ club? That’s cute. I don’t think you understand how far our reach is. Take, for example, how suddenly a third baseman for a Vegas baseball team suddenly gets benched for having drugs in his system.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t do drugs. And I’m still playing. Your make-believe story is just that.” I narrow my eyes at him, but my heart is racing in my chest.

“True. It hasn’t happened… yet. But don’t think I don’t have people in the right places that can make that little story a very real one. Look, son?—”

“You may be my biological father, but I’m not your son,” I cut him off with a scowl.

“You can’t fight who you are. As I was saying, son , none of this has to happen. You can take your rightful place in the Society and carry on the legacy. I think you will find you have been missing out on a whole world of opportunities at your fingertips.”

“So, you’re just gonna blackmail me into this?”

“Well,” he says with a shrug, “it’s not blackmail. Think of it as merely a suggestion.”

“That I have no say in or I lose my baseball career to false allegations,” I growl.

“Oh, it won’t be false, son. Those tests will positively show your drug use. If I have to tie you up and drug you myself, I will make sure you never play the game ever again.” His face reddens, and I can see him gritting his teeth.

I wouldn’t put it past him. While I have never wanted anything to do with the Society, I do know they have a wide reach. And my sperm donor is a fucking asshole who will do anything to get his way.

“But look at it this way, with no baseball career, you can now run this club with me. This town. The Society.” A creepy smile stretches across his face. “You took an oath, and it’s time for you to uphold that oath.”

“You are a fucking asshole,” I seethe.

My father just laughs. He grabs his drink and heads back over to his chair, slowly sitting down and not breaking eye contact as he does.

“I may be an asshole, but I’m the asshole who holds your world and your life in his hands. So choose wisely, son . We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Either way, you will do as you are told.” He gives me a sinister smile.

In that moment, I realize I’m royally fucked.

I say nothing, just get up and head for the door. The need to beat him to a bloody pulp races through every vein in me. For now, I need to get space between him and me.

There aren’t many people I trust or can turn to. But there are a few. And now I will need to let the guys in on this part of my life.

That is, if I have any chance of escaping it.

I may not have much choice but to take my place in the Society. But maybe they can help me find a way to get out of it.

What’s that saying? If you can’t beat them, join them?

I think my only way out is in.