“Oh my,” he says as he moves closer, beelining straight for me. Lincoln stiffens at my side as he cups my face in his hands. “Octavia Royal, as I live and breathe, is that really you?”
“Who are you?”
He almost looks taken aback. “You don’t remember your Uncle Rico? I suppose the last time I saw you, you were very young.”
He takes a step backward. “Martin, take our friends to see our guest. Si respiran mal, maten a la niña.”
Nothing like being able to understand the people around me. Of course Spanish is one of the languages that I’m more than a little rusty with. The man who spoke as we came in steps forward. “Si jefe.”
“Asaca estés cabrones de aqui! Y ponlé in ojo a ellos guys.”
The other guy points a gun at me, and I suck in a breath as Maverick looks like he’s about to throw down. “If you’ll please go with Martin, he will get you some refreshments.”
Mav takes a step forward, but Lincoln barks his name as Finn clamps a hand on his shoulder. Mav’s brown eyes are wild as he snarls at Rico, but follows as Martin ushers the two of them into another room to the left of us. “What is going on?”
“Just making sure no one gets any stupid ideas, little Royal.” Rico smiles, his eyes darken and his smile turns sinister. “Want to make sure we get what we paid for after all. Now, if you will just follow Jorge.”
I look up at Lincoln, whose jaw is clenched so tightly I think his teeth might snap. It would seem Harrison has truly fucked us. “She doesn’t need to be there for this.”
Rico’s eyes sparkle as he laughs at Lincoln’s words. “Of course she does. Can’t love a monster without seeing its true form.”
My heart races in my chest and I grip Lincoln’s hand tighter. It doesn’t matter what I see, it won’t change a thing. Martin moves ahead of us, motioning for us to follow in the opposite direction of where they took Mav and Finn. I glance back, Rico’s slimy smirk burned into my brain.
What the fuck is wrong with everyone in this organization? How was my father friends with this guy? I still can’t quite correlate the man I knew my father to be with the man who would’ve been a part of all of this. It’s like he was two entirely different beings.
I follow behind Linc as we’re taken out back and across a courtyard before we enter what looks like stables. Except, once we’re inside it just looks like a torture chamber, confirmed by the guy hanging from one of the beams, his wrists wrapped in chains and a burlap sack over his head.
What in the fuck have we been dragged into?
“What is it you want to know?” Lincoln asks Martin, who smirks at him as he waves his gun at the hanging man.
“There is a rat, he knows who it is. We want a name.”
Lincoln nods and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. “You’ll get it. If you’ll give us some space, I do my work better without guns in my face. Or hers.”
“Not a chance.”
Lincoln stiffens, and my eyes go wide. “It wasn’t a request. You want the name, you fuck off.”
Martin’s eyes narrow as he stares at us both and Lincoln maneuvers himself so that he’s standing in front of me. While I’m thankful, I also really don’t want him to get hurt. I put my hand on the center of his back, feeling him stiffen under my touch.
“Raise that gun in my face again and you’ll be wishing you hadn’t,” Lincoln growls as Martin moves to lift his arm again. He looks a little afraid, and I can’t help but wonder exactly what Lincoln has done to instill such fear in these people. To the point that they’d separate the three of them.
“Chinga te, princessa,” the man growls before turning and leaving the room.
Lincoln stares after him until the door is closed , then relaxes a little. “Octavia, I don’t want you to see this either.”
He keeps his back to me, his head hung. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not afraid of you or anything you’re capable of, Lincoln. I love you, even the darker parts.”
A shudder runs down his spine and I wrap my arms around him from behind. He relaxes further under my touch, covering my linked fingers with his hands.
“Let’s get this over with, shall we?”
I pull back from him and move back toward the wall. I’m pretty sure the guy with the gun is just outside the door, so I can’t go anywhere anyway, but I’m not about to leave him alone in this. He might not want me here, but I also know he’d rather know where I am.
Leaning against the wall I watch as Lincoln lowers the chains, letting the man sit on the floor, before removing the sack from his head. He leans forward and murmurs something in the man’s ear, and the man bursts into tears.
“Please, sir, no. Take pity. I have two daughters and a beautiful wife. I don’t know what it is that they want. I tried to tell them.” His broken English is hard to understand through his sobs, but I make out enough to get the gist of what he’s trying to say. Lincoln offers him a bottle of water, letting him drink as much as he wants before stepping back.