The Sacrifice: Chapter 32

The following morning, we woke up and headed right back to Blackout. We haven’t spoken. I cried myself to sleep before he ever came to bed, but he has nothing to say to me, and I no longer want to speak to him.

If I’m being honest with myself, I’m embarrassed about how I reacted. I don’t want to have a baby. That wasn’t a lie, but being a mom? I’d love to have children in a different life. But I decided years ago that that wouldn’t be something I’d ever get to experience. I do thank Tyson for hijacking my wedding to Luke. Otherwise, he’d already have me knocked up.

When we returned to Blackout, he left and went to his office. I didn’t follow him. I also didn’t go visit him before my shift started. Consequences be damned. I’m hoping he’s too busy to remember.

After my shift, I went upstairs and crawled into bed. Again, he didn’t bother to wake me up for sex. At this point, I’m not sure if this is a blessing or a punishment.

I’m still lying in our bed, ready for another boring day in. Reaching over, I pick up my cell off the nightstand to see it’s a little after noon. My sleep schedule has been screwed ever since I started working at Blackout. I’m up all night and sleep most of the day away. Which is fine. What else am I going to do?

Sitting up, I see the light to the bathroom is on underneath the door. Listening, I hear the shower running. I lie back down and roll onto my side, closing my eyes. They spring open the moment I hear a cell ding, alerting that a text message has been received.

I sit up once again and see his cell lighting up on the long dresser. Throwing off he covers; I rush over to it just as the screen goes black. I press the button to light it up and see he has a text without opening it.

Girl’s body? Is this the missing girl? I haven’t seen anything about it on the news in a while. It was everywhere at first, but then it was like she was just forgotten. Why do Ryat and Tyson care what happened to her? Maybe Tyson doesn’t want any heat on the club and that’s where she was seen last, and Ryat is helping him out.

Biting my bottom lip, I allow the screen to go black once more. If Ryat is on his way here, that means Blakely is free. I need a day out with someone else. I’m suffocating here. I thought being locked up in my parent’s house for three years was torture, but this is a different kind.

Making up my mind before it’s too late, I grab his wallet next to phone. Opening it up, I remove his black American Express Centurion Card, and then close it really quickly. The sound of the water shutting off has me setting the wallet down, jumping back in bed, and placing the covers over my face. I tighten my hand around the card, roll onto my side, and shove my arm under the pillow to hide what’s in my hand.

I try to calm my breathing so he doesn’t hear me when he enters the bedroom. It’s so quiet in here. There’s a fan going, but it doesn’t make much noise.

I hear the bathroom door open, and I open my eyes to watch him in the mirror that hangs on the far wall. His back is toward me while he pulls on a pair of jeans. He picks up his cell, reads the text, and then replies before placing it in his pocket.

Then he’s pulling his shirt on. He grabs his wallet and goes to turn, and I close my eyes because if I can see him, he can see me. I gently push myself farther into the covers, but I pause when they’re being pulled down my body.

I hold my breath, trying not to move and give myself away. His fingers lightly touch the side of my face and run down my neck before going over my shoulder.

It’s the first time he’s touched me in days and my body instantly reacts to it. Heat covers my skin, and my thighs are clenching. It only took him a few weeks to train my body to want him. To need him. Just a little touch and my pussy is screaming to get laid. My body begs for that high that I imagine those addicted to drugs want to feel. We went from having sex multiple times a day to nothing.

Just when I’m about to pass out, he pulls the covers back up to my neck, and then I hear the bedroom door open and close. I suck in a deep breath and sit up, grabbing my cell off the nightstand. Who knows how much time I have before Ryat is here and leaves. Then Tyson will be back up here to check on me.

I don’t have time to beat around the bush. Either Blakely is free to hang out or she isn’t. Plus, I want to ask her more questions about my sister. Nothing of what Blakely said in the bathroom at the house of Lords made sense. Whitney didn’t have a boyfriend. And a stalker? Who the fuck was stalking her, and how would Ryat know that? Tyson. He knew about it and must have told Ryat. But why?

She responds almost instantly. Her message is much more friendlier than mine was.

My phone rings and I see it’s her. Answering it, I keep my eyes on the door, hoping that Tyson doesn’t return. “Hello?”

“I thought this would be easier.” She gives a soft laugh. “But yes, I do. Although I’m not sure that they’ll have any appointments available for today.”

True. The hairdresser that my Mom took me to bleach my hair over time would be booked out well over six months. No way in hell would I go back to her. She’d call and tell my mother. My father will have a fit when he finds out I changed my hair back to brunette.

“What are you wanting to have done?” Blakely asks.

“I want to dye my hair.”

“Oh, I know someone who can do that. I promise, they’re good. I’ll make a phone call for you.”

“Okay.”

“I can be there in thirty minutes,” she says.

“Be where?” I ask.

“Blackout.”

“Oh, no. I’ll come to you,” I rush out.

She’s quiet for a long second before she asks, “Do you have a car?” Almost as if she already knew the answer but didn’t want to bring it up.

“No.” My shoulders slump. I mean, I do but it’s at my parents’. I refuse to go anywhere near there. I’m going to avoid my father as much as I can. My luck, they’ve already sold it anyway. “But I’ll Uber to you,” I say. I can’t afford to waste the time it’ll take her to get here. Plus, her husband will be here soon. I don’t want to take the chance of her going to Tyson’s office to say hi to Ryat before I even get a chance to escape. Her presence will raise too many questions.

“Are you sure? It’s no problem at all.”

“Positive. Send me your address, and I’ll be there shortly.”

We hang up, and I go to order an Uber. I have to add a card because I’ve never had an Uber account before, so I add Tyson’s that I have in my hand. Once done, I hold it up, looking at it. Why does he even have a black AMEX? I know most Lords have these cards. My father has one himself. But not all Lords are filthy rich. Surely, Tyson doesn’t make enough money owning this club. Hell, he even lives in an apartment above it. But he does have that gorgeous house. What could he possibly do on the side that would warrant him having it? Not just anyone can get one. These come with a lot of requirements. Maybe it’s fake. Or maybe all Lords have one and that’s how the Lords track their purchases? Hell, if I know. But I’m willing to test it.

My cell goes off and I look down to see Blakely sent me a text.

That’s in three hours.

Let’s test this baby out.

TYSON

I’m tracking my wife on my computer when my office door opens, and Ryat enters. “What did you find out?” I ask, giving him my attention.

He drops a folder on my desk. “She was found three days ago.”

I frown. “Three? Why haven’t we heard anything about it? Collin was just in here a couple of night ago wanting the surveillance.”

Ryat sits down on the couch. Leaning back, he fans his arms across the top cushions, getting comfortable. “I’m guessing that was more of a pleasure visit. Not work related.” He smirks and my teeth grind.

But why would Collin be here when he knew my wife was with me at the house of Lords?

“Anyway,” he continues. “The investigation will remain open as a missing persons case, but between you and me, they’ve called off the search. Per her father’s request.”

“So they want the world to think that they haven’t given up on her even though her body has been recovered? The question is why?”

“Because they don’t want the world to know what really happened to her.” He nods to the envelope.

“I’m not sure how they’ll be able to hide it. She’s been plastered on every news outlet and social media platform there is.” I open up the envelope and remove the stack of pictures, placing them out on my desk. “How did you get your hands on all this?” I ask.

“Judge Gregory owes me a handful of favors. I called one in.”

I’ve seen a lot of disgusting things in my life, but I’ve never seen a young woman so brutally tortured before. “Someone didn’t want her identified.”

“They removed her teeth,” Ryat speaks, obviously already having gone through these pictures. “They were pulled, not knocked out. All ten fingers had been dipped into some kind of liquid. Guessing acid. Maybe.”

“No fingerprints,” I say more to myself than to him. But why?

“She was also raped. By the bruising, I’d say multiple times over the course of when she went missing and when she was found.”

“DNA?” I wonder and look up at him.

He shakes his head. “Must have used a condom every time, but none were found anywhere near or around where the body was recovered.”

I look down at the picture that shows the girl naked in a shallow grave. What’s left of her body is covered in dirt, dried blood, and God knows what else.

“She had been dead no more than twenty-four hours when they found her.”

“So he kept her alive for two weeks.” Why? What were they trying to get out of her?”

“Her wrists and ankles were both tied with what they can only guess to be barbwire.”

“Guess?” I look at him, my heart skipping a beat.

“They said due to the cuts, it appears her wrists were crossed over one another and then the barbwire was wrapped around both of them, that way when she fought the restraints, it wouldn’t dig into her radial artery, resulting in her bleeding out and dying before he wanted her to. It also appears that it was wrapped around her head. Used as a gag to keep her mouth open by the looks of the marks embedded in her cheeks and mouth.”

I drop my head and run my hands through my hair, letting out a long breath.

“What is it?” he asks, noticing the change in my mood.

I look up at him and he’s now walking over to my desk and sits down in the chair across from it. “You know who did this.” It’s not a question.

I lean back in my chair. “My freshman year at Barrington, twenty girls went missing over about five months. Five of those twenty were found raped and murdered. The bodies were recovered from different locations, but autopsies concluded barbwire was used as restraints.”

“So what? The guy who did this is out of prison now and doing it again?”

I stand, shaking my head, needing to walk around. “He was never caught. The Lords assumed it was one of us.”

He frowns. “What made them think that?”

“I don’t know. That information was never given. My sophomore year initiation was to go to a house and remove a Lord. We were to deliver him to the Cathedral for confessional.” The Lords take their confessional very seriously. They string you up in front of the congregation and force you to tell them everything. The less you speak, the more they torture you. I’ve seen some hold out, but every single one of them ends up spilling their secrets. Then they finish you off and toss you in a grave in the cemetery behind the Cathedral.

“So you know who this is.” He points at the photos.

Again, I shake my head. “No. We never collected him.”

He frowns. “But it was part of your initiation. How did you pass if you didn’t deliver?”

“We were instructed to do whatever was necessary,” I correct him.

“Meaning?”

“We killed two guards to gain entry to the property. There was a mother and a daughter inside. Word among the Lords was that the mother was helping her son lure these girls in so he could kidnap and torture them. If we did not get the Lord, we were to terminate everyone inside of the house. They figured if we killed those who helped him, it would put a halt to what he was doing.” I begin to pace behind my desk. “I killed the mother.”

“And the daughter?”

“Got rid of her as well,” I answer vaguely.

“This guy is either the original killer or a copycat.”

“Why her, though?” I ask, knowing he can’t answer that. “The Lord back then did not choose girls old enough to be chosens, let alone Ladies. His victims were locals and didn’t attend Barrington. The girls didn’t even know Lords exist. This has to be personal. No one goes to that much trouble to torture and hide the identity of a body, and it not be for a personal reason.”

“Her father is a Lord.” He shrugs.

“I’m not sure that matters here. I mean, Lords have had their daughters kidnapped over the years and killed. But I’ve never seen one tortured to this extent.” I start digging through the stack of papers. “What about drugs?”

“The toxicology results can take up to six weeks, but she was known to do cocaine and smoke weed. What did Lake have to say about her? Did she see anything?”

“Nothing. I told her she was missing, and that was that.”

He arches a brow.

I roll my eyes. “The less she knows, the better.” Plus, I didn’t want to give her any reason to speak to Collin. “Who has the body?” I continue.

“Parents wanted it to be hush-hush. She was cremated early this morning.”

I stiffen at his words, clear my throat, and ask, “Why are they stopping the investigation?”

“Word has it, the Lords have taken it over.”

“Good luck with that.” I shove the pictures back into the envelope. They didn’t find him last time, so I doubt they’ll have any luck this time. “What was the cause of death?”

“Exsanguination,” he answers.

“So he wanted her to suffer until he got bored, and then let her bleed to death,” I say. “What about the boyfriend?” I saw on the cameras that she left with the same guy she arrived with.

“He’s been very cooperative with the police. He was cleared after a Ring camera showed him taking her home and dropping her off.”

“She was taken from her home?” I ask. If so, that’s new. Because the others weren’t. They were taken while out and about. By themselves. Their cars later found abandoned.

He shakes his head. “It showed her leaving fifteen minutes afterward. They seem to think she was seeing someone other than him. Phone records came up clean, though.”

My cell rings, and I pick it up. “Hey, man, I’m a little busy …”

“Tyson, I’ll keep this quick,” A guy I know by the name of Marlin rushes out.

“What’s up?” I wonder why he’s calling me. We haven’t spoken in over a year. He runs one of the Lamborghini dealerships in town. He used to sell drugs in my club.

“I’ve got a Laikyn Minson here wanting to purchase a Urus. But your name is on the card she’s using. Do I need to call the cops?”

“That’s my wife,” I inform him, pulling my wallet out of my back pocket to see which card is missing. He’s silent for a long second making me think we got disconnected. “Marlin?” I ask.

“Sorry, man, but damn. She’s your wife?” He whistles. “Good job.”

“Is that all, Marlin?” I growl.

“Yeah. I’ll run the card. Hey, we should get together. Have a guys’ night—’

I hang up and sit back in my seat. Ryat starts to speak as it rings again.

“This is Tyson,” I answer, knowing who’s calling me.

“Hello, Mr. Crawford. We’re calling you in regard to your AMEX card. We have suspicious activity at a Westwood Lamborghini in the amount of three hundred and fifty thousand dollars. We’re calling to confirm you’ve made this transaction.”

“You can accept the charge,” I say and hang up, smirking.

“What’s so funny?” Ryat asks.

“My wife just bought herself a car.”

He looks around the room. “Like right this second?’

“Yeah. She snuck out this morning with an Uber and took my credit card with her.”

His eyes widen. “You allowed that?”

“Of course. Sometimes you have to give them the chance at confidence. Give them a little slack to their leash so you can remind them who they belong to.” She has more than usual right now because I’ve been ignoring her. “Plus, she’s with your wife. What could go wrong?”

“What?” he snaps, digging his cell out of his pocket to no doubt check Blakely’s tracker.

“It’s fine. She could use a friend.” Blakely is the safest friend she could have. Ryat keeps an eye on her at all times after what they’ve been through.

He huffs.

“Have a problem with our wives being friends?”

“I have a problem with my wife being Lake’s friend,” he answers honestly.

“She’s harmless.”

“It’s not her I’m worried about. Her father will retaliate.”

He’s not wrong. “I know, and I’ll be ready.”

“And if he tries to kill your wife?” He arches a brow. “Just how far are you willing to go to stop that from happening?”

My body stiffens at that thought. “He won’t harm Lake. He’ll come after me. It’s personal.” I’m the one he wants. He’s always hated me. Picking Whitney as my chosen pissed him off, but marrying Lake was the last straw. It’s war now.

“You humiliated him in front of the Lords,” Ryat goes on. “Men like him will bite off their noses to spite their faces.” His green eyes meet mine. “If you don’t want anything to happen to Lake, I’d tighten that leash you have on her.”