Page 55 of Wicked Games
“Lucien,” Ryder said softly, pulling me back to the present. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I just…” My words trailed off.
“Lucky,” Carmen said just as softly as Ryder. “I’m not out to hurt you. The things inside the envelope can’t hurt you, but they could hurt someone very special to me. I’m trusting the two of you with information that very few people know.”
“Why?” I asked, coming out of the daze.
“Because you and I both want the same thing: to take down Charles Banks. My reasons are personal and extremely painful, but I can’t bring him down without your help. I must warn you the information inside the envelope is devastating and disturbing. I’ve had to wait more than a decade to obtain the hard evidence needed to exact my revenge.” A decade? I placed Carmen in her late twenties if that, meaning she’d had a vendetta against Banks since she was a teenage girl.Oh fuck.I felt like I was going to be sick. “I need your help, Lucky. Please.”
“Okay,” I said, opening the envelope. The first paper on top was DNA results, and it took me a minute to realize I was looking at a paternity test. I saw the results at the bottom of the page and jerked my head up to meet Carmen’s direct gaze. “He’s your…” I couldn’t even form the words.
“Father,” Carmen said for me.
“Whoa,” Ryder whispered breathlessly. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”
Carmen grinned adoringly at him. “Can I keep you?”
“No,” I said firmly, “but you can have visitation rights.”
“Fair enough,” she said, tipping her head in acknowledgment. “There’s a lot of information in the envelope, which you’re welcome to look at later if you choose, but I’ll give you an overview.” Carmen started to say more but stopped when a guy I presumed to be Stephan stepped onto the patio with our drinks and a plate of cheese. “Ah, thank you, Stephan. Perfect timing as always.”
“Anything else, miss?” Stephan asked, looking from Carmen to us. One side of his face was disfigured and scarred from burns. Half of his mouth was locked in a permanent sneer and one of his eyes had a milky white iris completely devoid of color.
“That will be all. You can turn in if you like. I can take care of anything my guests might need.”
The man studied Ryder and me, and I could tell he was curious about our relationship to Carmen. Then again, maybe he just wasn’t used to her having company. Stephan nodded politely to us then looked at Carmen. “Goodnight then, miss.”
“Grab your drinks, fellas; you’re going to need them.”
“I’ll drink to that,” I said, holding up my Scotch in a mock toast. I took a healthy drink and welcomed the burn that followed. “Good stuff.”
“Only the best,” Carmen said then took a drink of wine.
Ryder just looked between us like he couldn’t believe we could converse so calmly after Carmen dropped the large bomb on my lap. Me? I knew bigger hits were about to come, and I needed the alcohol to brace myself.
“Drink up, love,” I said, pushing Ryder’s martini toward him.
Ryder blinked a few times before he did as I suggested. Then he released a hum of pleasure and said, “Pure perfection.”
Carmen smiled her approval then shifted her eyes to the stack of documents sitting on top of the envelope. “My mother was a victim of human trafficking. She was taken from her home in Cuba when she was only fourteen years old and sent to live at a special school in England.”
“Carmen, I can read the documents. You don’t need to put yourself through telling me.”
“I want you to understand how deeply my hatred for this man runs. I need someone who understands his treachery to listen to me.”
“I’m listening, Carmen,” I said gently. “I’ll hear whatever you want to say.” Beneath the table, Ryder reached for my free hand and linked our fingers.
“My mother didn’t speak or understand a word of English. Can you imagine how frightened she was?” Carmen asked.
“I bet she was terrified,” Ryder said gently.
“She learned to read and speak English and took comportment classes so she could be a proper lady. While some men would like a wild and untamed beauty, they didn’t bring as much money. My mother was sold to the highest bidder at an auction for the United Kingdom’s wealthiest and most perverted men. Do you know who purchased my mother’s services? Who raped her without regard for her virginity? Who cast her aside like garbage when her pregnant condition became known?”
“Banks?” I said in a voice so low and mean it was barely audible. With every word she spoke, I got angrier and angrier.
“Lucky and smart,” Carmen quipped. “I learned the truth about him when I was an angry teenager. I’d demanded to know who my father was and acted out when my mother refused to tell me. After she’d had enough of my wild behavior, Mama told me the truth.”
“And you’ve bided your time since then,” Ryder said.