Page 56 of Twisted Tate

I memorize the numbers.

“Please what?” I lean closer. “Please stop? Please show mercy?” I twist his broken finger, and his scream goes high and thin. “Did you show mercy to your daughter? Did you show mercy to any of those girls?”

He doesn’t answer. He just sobs.

I release him and stand up, wiping my hands on my jeans like touching him has contaminated me. Then I kick him in the stomach. My father’s Talons move in to secure him, zip-tying his wrists and ankles before hauling him toward the sedan.

“Put him in my car.” My father’s voice is cold and steady, then he looks at me. “Get what we need and get to the warehouse.”

I watch them shove Jenson into the back seat. He is still crying, still begging, still convinced that his connections will save him. He has no idea that his connections are exactly the reason he’s going to die. The Council will authorize the execution of all of them.

My father pauses beside me before getting into the driver’s seat.

“Don’t take too long.” His eyes meet mine, and I see the pride in his expression. He knows he’s taught us well. “I want this finished tonight.”

“It will be.”

The sedan pulls away, and I watch until the taillights disappear around the bend. When I turn back, Reese is standing beside our SUV. Her face is pale in the fading light, but her jaw is set.

“You broke his finger.” Her voice is flat, unreadable.

“Baby girl, you were supposed to stay inside.”

“I’m glad you did.” She walks toward me, her steps steady despite the fear I know she is feeling. “He deserves worse.”

“He is going to get worse.” I meet her halfway and pull her against my chest. She fits perfectly, like she was made to be held by me. “Are you okay, baby?”

“I will be.” She presses her face into my shirt and breathes deep. “Once this is over, I will be.”

I hold her for a moment longer than I should. We have a job to do, and every second we waste is a second something could go wrong. But I can’t seem to let her go. The feel of her body against mine is the only thing keeping me from chasing down the car carrying Jenson and killing him now.

“Let’s go get what we need.”

We load back into the vehicles and head toward the Donaldson estate. Reese sits pressed against my side, her hand gripping my thigh hard enough to bruise. I cover her hand with mine and let her hold on as tight as she needs to. If she bruises me, I’ll tattoo that on my body, too.

We park in a wooded area behind her father’s property where the vehicles won’t be visible from the road. Everyone checks their weapons. Thorne shoulders his equipment bag. Fox runs through the plan one more time, but I am barely listening. All I can focus on is Reese’s face, the way she is holding herself together through sheer force of will.

I love this woman.

The realization hits me like a fist to the chest, and I almost stumble. I fucking love her. Not just want her, not just need her, not just feel responsible for her. I love her in a way I did not think I was capable of loving anyone.

And in a few minutes, I am going to walk her back into the house where she was abused for a decade, and there is not a goddamn thing I can do to protect her from the memories waiting inside.

“Tate?” Reese is looking at me with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I clear my throat and try to focus. “Let’s move.”

She guides us to the service entrance she told us about. The security panel glows green when she punches in the code, and the door clicks open. We move through the darkened hallways in single file, our footsteps silent on the polished floors.

Reese leads us up a back staircase, avoiding the main areas. Then we are on the third floor. The hallway stretches ahead of us, dark and empty. At the far end of one corridor there is a single door.

Halfway down the hall, Reese stops in front of a painting and reaches behind the frame. Her hand comes back with a small brass key.

“That is the key to the room.” Her voice has dropped to barely a whisper and I can tell how she is fighting just to breathe.

“We can do this without you going inside.” I grip her shoulder. “Thorne can get into the safe. You can wait out here.”

“No.” She shakes her head. Determination hardens her features. “I need to do this. I need to see that room and prove to myself that it can’t hurt me anymore.”