Echo (Black Lotus #2)(68)
“Even with Bennett’s dick inside your wife? Would you have done anything for her in that moment?”
“Your lies are humorous.”
I don’t acknowledge his denial as I continue antagonizing him, spitting my words, “Did you enjoy f*cking her when my husband’s cum was still inside her filthy *?”
He stomps back over to me, and I laugh to just piss him off even more. He grabs my hair, and immediately shuts me up when he balls his fist and punches the side of my face. Everything turns bright white, and my mouth fills with blood from where my teeth puncture the inside of my cheek.
Writhing in agony, I groan in exploding pain from my head. My skull thumps hard, and I can’t open my eyes because it hurts too much. And the next thing I know, he covers my mouth again with tape.
The pain in my head increases as time passes. I’ve got my body pressed against the wall as I continue to lie here, and I wish he would just knock me unconscious to put me out of my misery.
When Richard walks out of the room and into the corridor, I make an attempt to break the tape as I twist my wrists, but it’s not budging. I roll off my side and onto my stomach before I start grazing the side of my face along the floor. When I start to feel the corner of the tape pull away from my mouth, I press my face down harder, rolling it to try and catch more of the tape to pull it off. Once I feel the tape peel off the corner of my lips, I use my tongue to push it off, and when I can move my mouth and speak, I wait for Richard to return.
I can hear him talking to someone on the phone, but I can’t make out what’s being said. After a while, he returns, and I keep my voice as free from hostility as I can when I say, “It’s true.”
His eyes meet mine, and I add, “They did a DNA test that Bennett kept in his safety deposit box. Bennett left him everything. I couldn’t believe it when I found out, but it’s true.”
“Tit for tat?” he says, confusing me.
“What does that mean?”
He then pulls his chair around to me and sits as I lie here, staring up at him.
“You hurt me, I hurt you.”
My brows pinch together, not understanding his riddled words.
He continues, “I’ve got nothing to lose, and unless I get my money, you’re not walking out of here alive. And from what I remember of your father, he wasn’t much of a fighter, so I have a feeling your days are numbered as his were.”
“Fuck you!” I snarl at him for speaking shit about my dad. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He laughs at me, revealing, “I know more than you think, little girl. You see, I knew your father.”
My chest palpitates anxiously when he says this, and a thousand questions flood.
“Steve and I go way back.”
I don’t want to believe Richard had anything to do with my dad, or that my dad had anything to do with him. But . . . if he were still alive, he’d be right around Richard’s age, so there’s possibility in what he claims. But how?
“When Bennett had me following you, I started digging into your past. When all the pieces came together, I couldn’t believe the Archer girl had been right in front of my face for years. I should’ve known you’d turn to pulling cons. At first, I thought I was your target when I was convinced you knew who I was. But when I started thinking back, I realized you didn’t. I knew then it was Bennett you were after. But I still don’t know why.”
“Why would I be after you?” I question in terror, wondering who this guy really is.
“Maybe you blamed me for what happened.”
“Tell me how you knew my dad.”
“There’s a lot I can teach you, you know? You were pretty good at fooling Bennett for all those years, but whatever it was you were trying to do, you moved too slowly and didn’t properly assess the people you were surrounding yourself with.”
“Tell me,” I demand as I struggle to keep my tears back because just talking about my dad has me falling apart. He’s my weakness, my softest part, and now I fear Richard has something to do with me losing him. “Tell me!”
“Call Declan.”
“What? I don’t have his number.”
“Then we wait,” he says. “I know he’s in London and will be returning tomorrow. You’ll call his landline then.”
“Tell me how you know my father, Richard. You want to hurt me? Is that what you want? Then just tell me, because anything you have to say about him will surely be a dagger.”
“That’s too easy.”
Richard then leaves me to be as he moves to the other side of the room and sits. I struggle to get comfortable with my hands still taped together. I lie on the cold concrete and rest my cut cheek to the ground to help soothe the ache that pulses through the gash. My head weighs heavy in an excruciating headache, and I close my eyes to drown out the cheap fluorescent lighting, but the buzzing from the bulbs keeps me agitated.
Hours pass as I drift in and out, and when the fog from all the high-strung emotions begins to clear, I’m finally able to focus. I run through everything Richard has told me, trying to figure out what the f*ck is going on, when I remember his claim.
Guns.
MY MEETINGS HAVE been long, sitting around and listening to several architectural firms make their presentations and going over the bids for the job. This will be another boutique hotel that will cater to wealth, and above all, privacy. Lotus was my first solo venture, and it has proven to be a success in the few months it’s been open. We maintain an exclusive clientele, which the city of Chicago was in desperate need of. It’s full service in every luxury accommodation, selective on who’s approved to book a room, and the London property will be the same.