Another round of impatient knocking thundered at the wood, and Royce’s voice seeped through, lowered in dire emphasis, “Listen, man, I got bad news. Just got off the phone with the prosecutor.”
Dread turned my heated flesh to ice.
Nothing but a flash freeze.
My blood ran stagnant, and my chest stretched so tight it felt like my ribs were being ripped apart in some kind of wishing bone match.
I stared at the wall. Locked in a fear that coursed.
This time, he knocked a single knuckle, his voice so low I could barely hear it. “Come on, man, open the door.”
Hands shaking, I wrapped the towel around my waist and cracked it open, my teeth grating when I saw him standing out in the hall.
Expression grave.
Horror in his dark eyes.
“What happened?”
Dropping his head, his hand came out to support himself on the wall as he seemed to try to gather himself. “The two women who’d agreed to testify before the detective went in with the evidence against Fitzgerald?”
That dread took on a whole new life.
The detective Royce had been feeding information to, setting Fitzgerald up, had gotten sworn statements from two of the women Karl Fitzgerald had been holding. Two women who had gotten free and were going to take the stand and testify.
They were the smoking gun for the prosecution. Those who could vouch firsthand for the twisted depravity.
“Yeah?” I could barely force the question out. Wholly unprepared for anything he was gettin’ ready to say.
Silence stretched between us.
Weighted with apprehension.
Finally, Royce lifted his head. It exposed the grim expression carved on his face. “Both of them went missing, man.”
“What?” Sickness punched from me with the question, shock hitting me like a landslide, disgust and hatred and outright fear rushing in behind it to knock me from my feet.
They were supposed to be under police protection.
My own hand was shooting for the doorframe to keep myself from dropping to my knees, the other coming to my mouth when my head slumped forward like it could calm the roil of nausea that burst in my stomach.
Bile rising in my throat.
“Fuck,” I muttered toward the ground. “Can’t fuckin’ believe this.”
Except I could, couldn’t I? This was exactly why we were taking the measures we were. We knew just how dangerous these people were. Knew the lengths they would go to keep their perverted world under lock and key.
“How long have they been gone?” I managed to ask.
Royce roughed an agitated hand over his face, the king tattooed on the back of it flexing and jerking like it was itching to make its next move. “Since yesterday at least, maybe longer. Her last contact with them was a few days ago.”
“Thought they were each assigned an officer to watch over them?” It was an accusation, venom ripping from my tongue.
Royce looked over his shoulder behind him, and he kept his voice lowered when he returned his attention to me. “Yeah. Thought so, too.”
The implication hung thick in the stagnant air.
I blinked a thousand times. “His reach is long, man.”
“Know it.”
“Those poor girls.” Hatred burned hot in my chest. Already sure of their fate. Not like this was the first time someone had gone missing who’d dared expose this warped, evil empire.
Royce’s hand curled into a fist. “They’ve all gotta pay. Every single one of them.” He trailed off, not even able to voice it.
“I know.”
He shifted his hard gaze to mine, though his voice was laden with the plea. “We have to see this through. It’s the only chance.” Knew well enough that plea was for both our sisters.
For so many others out there that we couldn’t come close to knowing their names.
It was so fucked up how the tentacles of that sordid world had slithered and crept and overcome. Winding through our lives without us knowing it until all of us were tied. And it just kept going deeper and deeper.
“I won’t stop until those savages see justice.” Promise rolled from me on a threat.
Royce nodded then swallowed, tat on his throat bobbing heavily. “Prosecutor said she’d like to talk with you. Wants to know if you saw anything in the years you’ve known Karl Fitzgerald that you could use against him.”
His brow quirked at that.
That dread doubled.
“What the fuck am I supposed to say to her? She’s the last person I want to talk to.”
I’d prayed I could stay off her radar. In the sidelines. Just an innocuous figure on the fringes there to support his sister.
“You don’t fuckin’ panic,” he hissed. “Answer the questions you can answer. Make sure it’s clear you don’t know all that much.”
Right.
Didn’t know all that much.
“Sounds simple,” I said, sarcasm dripping out.
“You don’t have much of a choice, do you? It’s game time. And it’s not like you’re under oath.” His brow lifted. “It’s your job to keep it that way.”