Page 31 of The King of Hearts (The Raven Group #1)

It was fascinating to watch Emo slowly lower the guy’s face to the glass.

It was even more riveting when the sharp edges pierced his skin.

Blood gushed from the wounds, and the guy’s yells became high-pitched screams. Emo wrapped his free hand around the guy’s throat to silence him and kept applying pressure to the back of his head.

The glass embedded itself into the guy’s face.

When that wasn’t good enough, Emo ground his face against the glass and concrete, slicing his skin to ribbons.

The guy was still alive, but his struggles were slowing.

He finished the guy off by yanking his head back, and with a grunt, slammed his head down as hard as he could.

Emo got up, dusted his black-gloved hands off on his pants, and turned to face me.

Again, neither of us said a word. He turned and walked down the opposite end of the alley without a care in the world, and I went back the way I entered it.

I wasn’t sure if the guy was still alive, and I didn’t care.

The next day, I heard on a news report about the murder.

Come to find out, Emo did the world a favor.

The guy had just been released on bail after raping two women.

“My facial recognition software picked up something interesting,” Emo says, pulling me back to the current conversation.

“Who?” I ask, but I have a feeling I already know. I only have Emo searching for one person, and in the two years he’s been looking, there’s never been the slightest hint.

“Your father.”

My chair creaks when I lean back. “Where?”

“Downtown Atlanta. He was spotted walking out of a bank a week ago.”

“Can you send me the footage?”

“It should have already hit your inbox.”

Savina is still on her side, her eyes closed as she sleeps peacefully, when I pull up a new window and go to my email account. Sitting nice and pretty is a fresh email from Emo.

“Got it.” I click on the download button, and a notification pops up on my screen. “No other sightings?”

“None so far, but I’ll let you know if anything pops up.”

“Appreciate it.”

“Call if you need anything.”

I pick up the glass of Macallan and swirl the liquid.

“Did you get the package I sent you?” I ask.

“Yes. And the instructions.”

I take a sip of the whiskey. The amber liquid burns a smooth path down my throat.

“Go time is in a week. I’ll contact you once everything is in the clear. You know what to do if you don’t hear from me.”

“Everything is in place and ready.”

The line disconnects after that, and I toss my phone down on my desk.

Emo and his brothers are my kind of people.

They aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty, and oftentimes relish in it just as much as I do.

They reside in a small town in Texas called Malus.

It’s the same town where they grew up, but things are much different than they were when Emo was a child.

Back then, the town was called Sweet Haven.

When they were children, the adults of the town had a ritualistic practice they performed every month.

All of the town’s children were gathered in a great hall in the center of town.

It was there that they raped, sodomized, and abused the children.

All under the disgusting guise that they were doing God’s work.

That it was He who granted them permission to show their love for their children in the most sick way possible.

All of it stopped when the Feds swarmed Sweet Haven and dismantled the cultish town.

Most of the adults were arrested and later convicted.

Some were killed during the raids, but some got away.

Emo and his brothers dedicated their lives to eradicating those who escaped.

As adults, they returned to the town and petitioned to change its name.

They chose Malus because the town may have been born from evil, but it prevailed and became something good.

Emo and his brothers continued their murderous endeavors, even after they slaughtered the last of their escaped tormentors. Now they take out those who harm the innocent. And the people of Malus, a town full of past victims, know about it.

I click the download folder and select the most recent file.

A window pops up. The screen is black for the first few seconds before a crystal-clear picture takes its place.

It’s a shot of the front doors to a bank.

A lady in a black pantsuit exits through the door.

It’s barely shut when it opens again, and for the first time in twenty years, I see my father’s face.

The video is short, only a few seconds long.

He stops just outside the doors and lifts his wrist like he’s checking the time on his watch. Then he walks out of view.

I rewind the video until it gets to a good view of his face and then pause it. I maximize the window so it extends to the full width and height of my screen, and then zoom in.

Despite the years since my father disappeared and me being so young the last time I saw him, he looks much the same. A few age lines wrinkle his face, and his once black hair that was the same as mine has white streaks spread throughout. There’s more gray than there is black.

His build is the same, though. Antonio Romano was always tall and well built.

An imposing figure that intimidated most people.

The estate I grew up in has a home gym that my father used on a regular basis.

I would sometimes go down there with him, and my father would set up some of the equipment to the lowest setting so I could be part of his exercise routine.

He even had a small custom treadmill made that was fit for a child.

I sit forward in my seat, my eyes narrowing on the screen. Clicking a few buttons, I zoom in more and focus on my father’s left hand as he lifts it. I click a few more buttons until what I want to see appears.

Anger boils my blood when I see the silver band on his ring finger. It’s a wedding band. And it’s not the one that matches my mother’s set. His ring was found in the bloody mess left on the floor after he disappeared and is now in my mother’s jewelry case.

So, he not only left his wife and son, he went and got remarried. It’s not legal, of course, because he’s still fucking married to my mother.

I watch the video a few more times, looking for any clues that may give away his whereabouts, but I don’t really expect to find anything on this random clip.

My anger mounts with each time his face appears on the screen.

There’s not enough hate in the world to describe what I feel for this man.

He ruined my life, but what’s worse, he ruined my mother’s.

And for that alone, he’ll die a painful and bloody death.

I close the video screen and the tab to my email, which reveals the feed to Savina’s bedroom.

She’s shifted a little, so she’s mostly on her stomach now.

The sheet has moved down, giving a glimpse of the top of her ass.

One of her legs is thrown out from under the soft cotton and is bent upward.

She’s in a position that, if I were there and removed the sheet, her pussy would be exposed, her lips wide open, showing off that delicious hole I want to devour.

I’d bury my face there and lick her until she was raw.

An image of last night pops into my head.

One of her spread out on the ground, her legs wide, her pussy glistening in the moonlight.

She begged me with her words to take her, but it was the hungry look in her eyes that nearly had me giving in.

I’ve tormented this woman while she’s slept for over a year.

I’ve tortured myself for longer than that and that one craving burn in her eyes damn near derailed everything.

Sheer force of will and my determination to finally have what’s mine is the only thing that kept me from mounting her and fucking her into the grass and dirt. The woman is dangerous to my self-control.

But I won’t have to leash that control soon. In a matter of days, Savina will irrevocably be mine, and no one, not her father, not her brothers, or anyone else, will be able to stop it.

I could spend the rest of the night watching my Vicious, but there are things I need to take care of, so I exit the video feed and close my laptop.

I flip the light off in my office and go through the house until I come to the door that leads to the basement.

The stairs creak and groan as I take them down, and the lights automatically switch on when I reach the bottom.

The large gym fills up a good portion of the space down here, but there’s a hidden room at the back, and that’s where I head.

The lights for this room aren’t automatic, so I flip the switch beside the door.

The walls and floor are a concrete gray, the ceiling a bright white.

The only thing inside is the bed situated against one of the walls and the IV stand beside it.

I go over and peer down at my guest. His eyes are closed, which isn’t a surprise since his latest IV bag has a sedative in it.

He’ll stay in this state for a few more days.

The clothes he’s wearing are the same ones he wore when I abducted him a year ago, and they look a little worse for wear.

His face is covered in a beard, and his hair has grown out, brushing his shoulders.

He’s gaunt and has lost quite a few pounds over the last year.

When I decided to take him, I clocked him in the face to knock him out.

His nose was broken, and I never reset it, so it’s permanently crooked.

Other than that initial punch, I haven’t hurt the man, even though every time I look at him, I want to drive a knife straight into his heart. His death has a purpose, and it’s coming due soon.

After checking the contents of the IV bag and determining it doesn’t need to be changed yet, I leave the room, flipping the light off as I go.

I go up to my mother’s room next. Beatrice has already settled her in bed, having retired for the night herself.

Knowing my routine of checking on my mother, she left on the light on the bedside table.

I pull up a chair beside the bed and take a seat.

My mother is on her side, facing me, her eyes closed.

She looks so normal when she sleeps, as if at any moment, her eyes will pop open and she’ll smile when she sees me sitting there.

“I saw Father today,” I tell her sleeping form. “He looks the same, only his hair is more gray and he has a few more wrinkles. How can he look the same after twenty years?”

The only sound that comes is the scraping of a branch against the window outside.

“He hurt you, and I want to kill him for it.”

I’d never say this while my mother was awake. If the doctors are correct and there’s a possibility that my mother hears and understands when I speak to her, I’d never want her to know my true feelings toward her husband. Despite whatever happened the night of her attack, I know she still loves him.

“I blame him for what Aunt Rosa did. If he were here, she never would have been here. If he were here, you wouldn’t be the way you are. I lost both of my parents that night, and my fucking innocence was stolen soon after. He’ll pay for all of it.”

I settle back in my seat, kicking my feet out in front of me and crossing my ankles. I look at my mother with one hand tucked beneath her cheek, the other laying on the pillow beside her head. Peaceful and serene, that’s what she portrays, but in reality, she’s a lost soul trapped in her own mind.

“Things are changing,” I say. “Savina, the woman I told you about, will be coming to live with us soon. I think you’ll like her.

She’s beautiful and sweet, but has so much fire inside her.

” I rub my thumb over my bottom lip. “Living here, being a part of our dysfunctional family, isn’t a choice she gets to make. It’s one I’m forcing on her.”

My mother shifts in her sleep, and I wait for her to settle before continuing.

“You always taught me to be a gentleman, to treat girls with respect and kindness, but those qualities were cut out of me when you went away. All that’s left is darkness, dominance and pain. I’ve done things I should be ashamed of, but those emotions no longer exist.”

I’m quiet after that, having said my piece.

Every night, I visit my mother while she sleeps and catch her up on the day’s events and tell her all of the things I can’t say to her when she’s awake.

When I was a boy, I’d sneak in here after everyone else was asleep and crawl into bed with her.

All I wanted was my mother to wrap me in her arms and tell me that things would be okay.

I sought out her comfort and affections, but never got them.

I stopped doing it the night Aunt Rosa caught me curled up against my mother’s side.