Echo (Black Lotus #2)(73)

“You wanted him dead,” I state in my revelation. “You were scared, weren’t you? You knew he gave up names, and you feared it was only a matter of time before he sold you out too, right?”

His head tilts, and his condescending gesture acknowledging my theory as truth sets me off.

“You f*cker!” my screaming voice scratching my throat. “It was you! You put the hit out on him, didn’t you, you motherf*cker!”

His only response is a slow upturn to his lips as he sits there.

I’ve always put all the blame on Bennett, and even though I hate Bennett for being the catalyst for all this shit, it was Richard who had the say in my father’s life, and he took it to save himself.

“You’re a f*cking coward!” I spit out as I feel the bursts and pops of veins and ventricles—heartbreak over and over and over. My daddy risked his life in giving up names just to get to me.

Blood rolls down my arms like teardrops as my skin rips open as I fight against the zip ties. When my frustration snaps, I release a defeated scream and slump over. My bones tremble, and when I hear Richard chuckling, I turn to him in disgust.

“Does this get you off?”

He stands and walks to me. “Seeing the queen of Chicago society fall apart before my eyes? Yes,” he responds and then kneels down in front of me, touching his finger to my face and running it along the cut on my cheek and then down my neck.

His touch is vile, rousing my stomach in putrid disgust, and I just can’t take it.

“Tell me something,” he starts. “When you found out that Bennett cheated on you, did you wish you’d known before he died so you could’ve gotten even with him?”

He then takes the knife out of his pocket and pops the blade up. My eyes follow his hand as he moves the blade to the zip tie and holds it against the plastic that’s now covered in my blood.

“Did you?” he questions again.

“No.” I didn’t give a shit about Bennett cheating because I never felt anything for him other than pure hate.

Suddenly, with quick movements, Richard cuts through the restraint and frees my hands. He then moves the blade between my breasts. My top hangs open from when he cut the fabric earlier. I hear the lace snap apart when he presses the blade against the fabric, and I know his intentions. Focus is key, and knowing the process all too well, I protect myself and shut down.

He now knows the truth about his wife and son. I could overhear him when he was down the corridor and on the phone right after he bound me to the pipe. I knew he was talking to Jacqueline. He questioned her, and I could tell from the words he spoke, that she admitted the truth to him. He didn’t raise his voice or become irate. It was the opposite. He remained collected, but looking into his eyes right now as he cuts through my bra, I see the fire of betrayal burning, and I brace myself for what I know is coming my way—retaliation.

Richard doesn’t know how strong I am when it comes to sex. After all, I made it through four years of f*cking the enemy, and I did it so well that he was none-the-wiser of my deep-seated hatred for him. My body is used up and polluted. It always was and always will be. Even Declan desecrated it when he raped me. So when Richard pushes the fabric aside to expose my tits, I feel nothing.

The cold, dank air hardens my nipples, and when this happens, he smiles and gloats, “Eager, huh?”

Fucking idiot.

When he stands up, I notice his erection pressing against his slacks. He walks over to the desk, exchanging his knife for the gun, and returns to me. My breath catches when he shoves the muzzle underneath my chin.

“Don’t get brave on me,” he threatens. “One wrong move, I’ll put a bullet in you.”

Although I now know his true profession, I still want to doubt that he would be a man capable of killing, but his next words disintegrate all doubt.

“But something tells me you won’t beg for your life like your little boyfriend’s mother did, which is disappointing. I love hearing a woman beg.”

My eyes widen is shocked disbelief. “You?” I question, horrified.

“Sometimes in life you have to teach people lessons, and when Callum thought he could screw me over, I made sure he learned I wasn’t someone to be f*cked with.”

He’s right—I’ve gotten myself tangled in the most f*cked up cryptogram imaginable.

“What does Cal have to do with any of this?”

He shushes me, running his gun down my belly and shoving it into my pants, the coolness of the metal seeping through the lace of my panties. His grin is scathing when he unzips my pants to earn more room to slip the barrel between my legs. He slides it back and forth along my *, all the while smiling. But I’m detached. My mind is in the past with Declan on the afternoon when he opened up to me about his mom being shot in the head.

The pain he hides so well surfaced in his eyes, and just like me, the moment he lost his parent, he was forever maimed with a wound that would never heal. I would do anything for him, and to know that Richard was the one who pulled the trigger that forever f*cked up Declan’s faith in security and comfort fuels my affinity for revenge.

Richard catches my attention, taking me away from my memories when he begins tugging my bottoms down my legs.

“My wife acted like a cunt,” he says. “But she’s not here for me to release my anger on, and neither is Bennett. All I have is you.”