Mr. Brooks spoke lazily. “I recently decided the girl is useless. I am hoping to have someone buy me out of having to take care of her…” He grinned at me. “Of course, if any of you are interested…”
“You would sell your own daughter?” I couldn’t help but demand.
Mr. Brooks shrugged, looking unaffected and uncaring. “We offered her to others who would pay more—”Dixon Glenn, probably“—but apparently she has no value. Shocking.”
“So you won’t give a fuck that your son was slaughtered less than two hours ago, then,” Dermot spit out.
Abby let out a wail of horror as tears filled her eyes, staring at Dermot like he was going to take his words back. There was so much sadness there. So much pain. I found my eyes watering, unable to ignore the agony she must be feeling at losing a sibling…even if he was a vile man.
“No loss there.” Robert Brooks shrugged. “Shut it, girl.”
“We are here for Glenn, no one else,” King leveled, redirecting the conversation.
“Why is that? Is it because he put a hit out on your little whore? Then you brought her here like a sacrificial lamb.” Mr. Brooks shook his head in mock disappointment. “How stupid, boys.”
None of them responded, and honestly, I was far more focused on Abby. The man holding her had let her go because she was sobbing on the ground, but I could tell she wanted to run. I could tell she wanted to get away from them. I felt a groan build in my throat, knowing I was going to help her.
I met Abby’s eyes, saw the pleading light in there, and swore under my breath. Then I straightened my spine and stepped confidently next to King. “I’m not a lamb, and you’re the one who has thirty slaughtered men at your feet and are harboring a criminal. You’re fucked.” Honestly, I had not expected my words to come out as strong and confident as they did, but they had the effect I wanted—Brooks was surprised.
“Seems you have grown more bold, Dahlia. I did hear that you have been running into some potential problems lately.”
Potential?Was that how we were describing it?
“Princess…” King warned, his jaw clenching, but I kept my gaze on Mr. Brooks.
“Why are you doing any of this? Is it the drugs?”
“No, you dumb girl—”
Abby scrambled up, taking advantage of everyone’s diverted attention, sprinting towards our side to hide behind one of the men. I cursed as Mr. Brooks raised a gun and shot right where her foot was…but he was too late. A man from our side picked Abby up and placed her behind him. Instant relief flooded my system.
“You would help a girl that tortured you for months?” Mr. Brooks asked in disbelief.
I felt realization hit me. “I would help someone that was forced to do something. I would help someone that was put into a situation they couldn’t control or handle on their own.”
“He isn’t my real father!” Abby announced as fury filled Mr. Brooks’s face.
“What?” I demanded as Kingston pulled me back behind the line, everyone raising their guns as Mr. Brooks tried to step forward. Abby met my gaze from behind the large man in front of her, her eyes clear and filled with panic.
“He hired my brother and I to act like his children, to make his place here believable—” She whimpered as Mr. Brooks let out an enraged sound, but he was unable to do anything with the amount of guns on him.
“Why?” I felt like we were just about to put this together.
“He’s not Robert Brooks—he’s Dixon Glenn.”
Oh shit.
My head snapped to Mr. Brooks—Dixon Glenn?—just in time to see him raise a gun and shoot it right at me.