The Young and the Submissive (The Doms of Her Life #2)
Page 18“As much as I would have liked to, I had to make a deal with the devil.”
“What?” Liam stared at Hammer as if he’d lost all his wits.
“I visited him and introduced myself, explained that I owned Shadows. I told him that his daughter was now under my care and that, under no circumstances, would he ever see Raine again.”
“Why the fuck would you tell him all that?”
“I was harboring a minor in a sex club. I had to put all my cards on the table in case he traced her back to me. Then I had to figure out what he wanted to keep his mouth shut and his ass at a distance. Right away, he accused me of having sex with her and threatened to report me as a pedophile.”
“You should have just killed him and been done with it,” Liam hissed. “Or at least called the police.”
“If I had, Raine could have gone to foster care. I refused to risk her being placed in a home worse than the one she’d escaped. And if I’d given into my violent urges, I would have gone to jail instead of being around to protect her.”
Liam couldn’t deny the logic, even if he hated the explanation. “Then what happened?”
“Bill and I came to an agreement. I promised not to plaster fliers of Raine beaten black and blue all over his neighbors’ doors if he kept his mouth shut, didn’t report me, and never came near Raine again.”
“It couldn’t have been that easy to make him agree to all that. What else did it take?”
Hammer tightened his grip on the wheel. “Two thousand dollars a month.”
Another shock jolted Liam’s system. “You paid that cocksucker for six months, until she turned eighteen?”
“No. I’ve paid him for over six years,” Hammer replied flatly.
“Hang on a bloody minute. That’s nearly one hundred fifty thousand dollars!”
“Yes, and I’m sure he’s done nothing but drink it away.”
“Why the hell are you still paying him? Raine became a legal adult years ago.”
“Because I was determined to protect her, and that was the only way I could guarantee Bill would fucking leave her in peace.”
Fuck all. Part of him reeled with the extent his pal had gone to protect the woman he loved—even before he knew he loved her. How could Liam not admire Hammer for the care and protection he’d shown Raine so unselfishly for so long? And what did that say about the man’s devotion to her?
“I understand you can’t be watching her ‘round the clock. But you’ve got me to help protect her now. Between the two of us, we can make sure he never gets close to her again.”
Hammer didn’t say a word, just glanced Liam’s way, his expression considering. “I’d never want to risk her, but… maybe you’re right.”
“I am.” Liam slammed a fist into the passenger door. “I just hate that the bastard is still breathing.”
“Yes, but Raine is, too. So the money I’ve paid him has been worth it.”
“Not a fucking thing, and it’s better if she doesn’t. You need to keep this secret. If not for me, then for her.”
Liam didn’t like it and wondered if this confidence would come back to bite them both in the ass, but he saw Hammer’s point. Raine’s pride would sting. “Fine.”
Finally, Hammer pulled to a stop in front of a two-story Craftsman-style home in a well-manicured neighborhood. Liam looked out the window. Everything looked so normal, so average. Everyone with their two newish cars and two point two kids. Looking around, he’d never think the people living here had anything more interesting to do than watch the lush grass grow. But Liam knew a brute dwelled within.
“Are you ready to meet dear old dad?” Hammer asked in a tone rife with sarcasm.
No. But Liam steeled himself. “As ready as I’ll ever be. I’ll try not to murder him. No promises.”
Hammer gave him a grim laugh. “I’ll keep him busy. You search every fucking room, closet, and cranny for her. Call out her name in case he’s got her tucked away somewhere. He’d probably have her gagged so listen carefully.”
Gagged? Fuck, holding his temper was getting bloody hard. “I will.”
And if she’s being held against her will, forget holding back the urge to slaughter him.
Hammer opened the car door. “Then let’s get this over with.”
“I’m right behind you.” Liam emerged from the car.
Hammer knocked on the door. After a curse and a shuffle, it swung open. Liam got his first look at Raine’s father.
A shock of snow-white hair stood off his scalp. His eyes were bloodshot and lifeless, but a familiar bright blue. The scar Raine had given him bisected one gaunt cheek with a thin white line.
The man was probably pushing sixty, but looked closer to eighty. A bulbous nose, cheeks full of broken capillaries, and a bloated belly showed the ravages of alcohol abuse. Some might have thought him a sweet old man, but Liam wasn’t fooled for a minute.
Bill leaned against the doorframe with a nasty smile. “Well, well. I’m surprised to see you here, Master Pervert. Are you still fucking my daughter?” Then he turned to Liam with a sneer. The old man sized up his designer suit, Italian loafers, and luxury watch. Dollar signs cha-chinged in his gleeful gaze. “You banging her, too?”
That was it. Bill was dead.
Liam surged at the man with a snarl of fury, all semblance of control gone. When Hammer held him back, he fought like a wild man.
“Steady...” his friend warned in a low voice. “Let’s find out what the bastard knows first.”
Hammer barged his way into the house. Liam followed, ignoring the old man’s stench.
Bill stared, and Hammer glowered at the man, his face every bit as threatening as Liam had ever seen it. “Where. Is. She?”
“Who?”
“Raine.”
Killing was too good for Bill. Liam would tear off his head with his bare hands, pour kerosene all over him, then light him on fire. When he lunged at the old man, Hammer held him back again.
“Did she come here?” Hammer demanded.
“You can’t find her? That’s priceless.” Bill laughed.
“Answer the question now or I’ll tear you limb from limb!” Liam couldn’t contain his rage.
“If I know something…” Bill turned to Liam, eyes crafty. “What’s that scrawny piece of ass worth to you?”
“How much do you want to live?” Liam growled, unable to believe this asshole had any genetic resemblance to the woman he loved.
“You going to hit me?” Raine’s father challenged.
When Bill least expected it. “Answer us. Do you know where to find Raine?”
Hammer cut him off with a sharp jerk of his head. Right, he was supposed to be sweeping the rooms, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t find her lying in one of them, half dead.
“Raine’s whereabouts aren’t up for sale today,” Hammer said. “You get your monthly stipend and that’s all. You and I are going to have a problem if she’s here—or if she came to see you and you didn’t call. Do we have a problem so far?”
“Did she run away from you, too?” Bill jabbed.
“Is she here, yes or no?” Hammer demanded. “I’m running out of patience.”
“Maybeeeee,” Bill taunted.
Liam prowled past the foyer and navigated a path through the piles of old newspapers littering the hall. He recoiled. The manicured façade of Raine’s house was an illusion, pretty enough on the outside, but neglect and decay permeated the walls.
He searched the spare bedrooms from top to bottom but found only wrappers, junk mail, discarded boxes, and trash—even in the wide open closet doors. Everything stunk to high heaven. He choked back the urge to retch.
Liam knew the bedroom that had once been Raine’s. The walls were a faded pink. A crinkled old poster of Justin Timberlake hung askew off one wall. A big fuzzy “R” dangled from a string above an old twin bed, stripped bare. Now the room had become a ten-by-ten trash can. Somehow, it made him hurt for her all over again.
As Liam hauled into the master bedroom, he coughed, forcing down the urge to heave. Inside, discarded takeout boxes, empty gin bottles, and overflowing ashtrays lay strewn everywhere. Hell, an atomic bomb couldn’t have done more damage. He called out for Raine, jerking open the closet. Smelly clothes, stiff sheets, loose change, and old porn magazines assaulted him.
The master bathroom fared no better. Liam tried to ignore the filth of old whisker shavings and cheap aftershave mingling with the black ring of grime in the tub and urine stains on the floor. The linen cabinet was filled with ratty towels and more garbage. The cloying reek of body odor pervaded the air.
“She’s not in the bedrooms,” he called to Hammer, coming back down the hall and dusting his hand down his pant leg, trying to rid himself of a prickly, crawling sensation. Once he knew Raine was safe, he’d welcome the chance to return to Shadows and scald himself with clean shower spray and antibacterial soap.
How had Raine ever lived here? She wasn’t mental about cleanliness, but she liked a tidy space and didn’t mind putting in the work to make a room spick-and-span. More than likely, she’d cleaned up after the repulsive old man, and he hadn’t bothered after she’d left.
Liam backtracked to the kitchen—and stopped in the doorway. Bill had obviously exhausted his supply of dishes and flatware years before. Paper plates caked with old food cluttered every surface. Cockroaches and rodent excrement mingled with other less identifiable layers of filth. The stench nearly dropped him to his knees.
The garage held nothing but a late-model economy sedan that had more than a few dents, a rusted-out washer, and a tilted dryer. Liam checked the interior of all and found no signs of struggle, blood, hair—or anything that led him to believe Bill had inflicted any trauma on her here.
The access to the attic was directly above Liam’s head. He pulled on the cord, and the attached compact stairs unfolded. After a brief climb, he discovered the space occupied by insulation and a hot-water heater. Crawl spaces were laid out in plywood. He climbed up. The odors from the house had risen, and it smelled like a landfill. Thankfully, the area was small. His visual check took under a minute. Given the undisturbed inches of dust, Liam realized that Raine couldn’t possibly have been here.
It was almost a relief. He couldn’t stand the thought of her stepping foot in this grimy hoarder’s dwelling again, at the mercy of that spawn from hell.
As he rounded the corner and made his way to the front door, he found Hammer fisting the drunkard’s stained T-shirt and shoving him against the wall.
“Don’t you keep her tied to the bed or something?” Bill sneered. “I’ll bet she likes it.”
Hammer growled. “What did you say?”
“I looked your kind up online, Master Pervert. I know all about you.”
No, he didn’t have a clue.
Liam surged closer. “Hammer, move. I’m going to hit him at least once.”
“Believe me, I want to. His sorry ass isn’t worth the jail time, and we can’t find her from behind bars.” But his old friend looked like he thought otherwise for a moment. Then he turned back to the unkempt bastard with thunder in his eyes. “Last chance. Have you seen Raine?”
“The stupid whore hasn’t come back here.”
Releasing Bill’s shirt with a shake of his hand, Hammer stepped back, looking like he, too, was suppressing a murderous rage.
The old man leveled them a taunting sneer. “This is hilarious. She’s got both your dicks in a meat grinder. She must mean a lot to you two.”
“Not one more disrespectful comment from you,” Liam replied in a cold, deathly calm tone. “Hammer, here, may have some qualms with ending your life, but I sure as bloody hell don’t.”
Bill glared at Liam. “I can’t believe she’s fucking a mick.”
“I advise you against insulting my friend,” Hammer said in silky warning. “You’ll respect him or I’ll shatter your goddamn jaw.”
“She’d spread her legs for anything with a dick. Well, except me. Even when I tried to be nice to her, she never showed me any love.”
White-hot rage roared through Liam’s veins.
“Nice?” Hammer closed in on Bill again like a raging bull. “You tried to rape your own daughter. What kind of sick fuck does that?”
“Don’t get all high and mighty.” Bill didn’t deny it.
Liam’s chest heaved. Hammer wasn’t faring any better. The old man was either too stupid to notice their fury…or he was baiting them. Liam didn’t like it.