Page 48 of Sadistic Retribution

What's their goal? What does Pretty Girl have to do with it? Do the boys know more than they’re letting on?

I dismiss that last thought as soon as it passes through my mind. They wouldn’t hold back anything that would find her.

Thor and Bill are busy typing and reading the screen. I scoot my chair over, watching what Thor is doing. He turns his head slightly, addressing me. “Looking for schematics or addresses attached to any of these family members. Most mob families have multiple safe houses.” He shrugs. “It’s something to check, anyway.”

I groan. “This is taking too fucking long. There’s got to be something to chase—a lead of some kind!”

“Dude...” Bill tosses over his shoulder. “Chill. It takes time.”

“Bill, man. Give him a break. The love of his life is on the line!” Thor argues.

I startle in my seat. “The what?”

Thor lays his hand on mine, patting it. “Bro... we know. It's obvious. Don't worry about it.”

I stand up, shaking my head. “I’m going to find Jax. I need to fuck something up.” Thor makes a shooing motion with his hand as I head out of the room.

Ghost

I know I’ve been isolating, not even responding to the guys’ texts. I just can’t be around anyone when all I want is my Malishka. Every damn thing reminds me of her. I can’t stand looking at my brothers because of it. How have we not found her yet?

I think I’m the one feeling the most guilt after what I did. It was hell getting my damn dick to stand up to pull that off.Ironically, it was a vision of Malishka’s beautiful face that did the trick. Then to stick it in Valley’s mouth?

I shudder, not believing I actually did that. To kill her soul like that. When she hit the floor screaming for us to kill her, I damn near took my blade to my wrist. I will never get that out of my mind.

I'm also turning over in my brain how our fathers knew the timing down to the second. There must be cameras all over. It's the only thing that makes sense. Do the guys know about that possibility? When I can bring myself to go back, I’ll relay it on to Purge.

The thought of them all watching makes my stomach churn. How much have they seen? The punishments would be worse than death if they knew half the shit we’ve done. I also want to know why they have such hard-ons for my girl. She's a nobody—she doesn’t even have a last name. The way they’ve been acting since she got here doesn’t add up. Who is she, really? How could she be a threat to the fucking Mafia and Bratva?

I sigh deeply, letting the tears run down my face. No one can see it anyway, as low as my head is dipped. I decide to finally check the text group. But once I scan it over, I almost drop my phone. What the actual fuck?

Clearly, my brothers need me back, so I slowly head to the apartment. I need to talk to Purge and see what’s going on. We have to find a way to get my girl back. Fuck—even if she hates us, she’d at least be safe. With us—where she belongs.

Frost

I can’t believe I found an old chapel deep in the forest, a good five miles from The Retreat. I've checked the whole place upand down and nothing is amiss. No secret rooms or areas, no cameras that I can see.

I'm not religious, but I’m on my knees in front of the old cross on the wall. Praying to a God I sure as hell hope is real to bring Killer back to us, unharmed.

My head is bowed, my lips moving in constant prayer. Tears track my face, dripping onto the old, wooden floor I'm kneeling on.

Why now? To make me feel? And fuck... do I feel! Pain, anguish, nausea, panic, depression, anger, rage... and love. Love for Killer. I'm in fucking love with her.

I have no idea how to handle this emotional vomit. It's hard to breathe with the turmoil raging in my brain. I have no one to talk to who would truly understand. My brothers have always had my back, but they won’t get it.

I scrub a shaky hand over my face, wiping the tears onto my pants. I know I should head back, but I’m scared. Scared we’ll never find her, scared she’ll be seriously injured—scared she’ll hate us forever. How do I explain these feelings to the guys?

I should probably go and tell them everything. They're all I have. Fuck, I love those motherfuckers. They're my real family.

I'm rudely interrupted from my musings by my phone vibrating in my pocket. I take it out, frowning when I see my father is video calling me. This definitely can’t be good.

I shove a hand in my hair, trying to lay it down neatly. I walk outside the chapel so all he will see is the trees, and answer the call. “Yes, Father?”

“I need you to come home for a little while. There's something you need to take care of for me.”

“What? Why? For how long?”

“Son—don’t test me. Just for dinner, suka. My driver will have you back before bedtime.”