Freed (Bad Boy Hitman Romance) (54 page)

William put the knife to Emily’s neck and looked up, his stare meeting mine. “You’re back early. Unfortunate. We were just getting to the best part.”

Emily’s head also perked up and my entire body began to vibrate in rage at the sight of her tears. She had such confusion and disbelief in her eyes. I could only image how fucked up she must be right now; the man she’d always looked up to and considered the pillar of goodness and faith was showing himself to be the devil in disguise. I suspected that what she was going through right now was ten times worse than what I could ever have put her through. She expected the worst of me, not of him.

“I’ll give you one opportunity to leave.” I didn’t mean it. I just needed a clean shot. The good pastor wasn’t leaving my house alive.

He smiled at me. “Not until I’m done and you both are dead.”

My only chance of getting Emily out of this unharmed was to goad him. I needed to get him so angry that his sole focus was on killing me. “I’m only offering out of respect for Emily.”

 
That did it. His lips turned into a disgusted sneer. “Respect. You’ve violated my daughter. She was pure and now,” he waved his free hand at his daughter’s naked body, “now she’s just another impure whore, of no use to anyone.” His voice rose with each word. “A whore! You’re the one who is responsible for her death, not me.”

 
I could see Emily’s eyes burning into me, but I refused to shift my gaze from her father’s. I couldn’t let him win, or allow him to see that I had any type of affection for Emily. “Oh please, Pastor,” I spat the word pastor as if it were the worst of insults. “This from the man who rapes the very women he claims to be whores. Seems hypocritical to me. Tell me, do you rape them before or after they’re dead? A sick fuck like you, I’m going to assume dead.”

I could see him fighting to keep his composure. I doubt anyone had ever spoken to him that way. Never. People worshipped him. They didn’t question him and certainly didn’t speak to him disrespectfully.
 

He laughed. “I’m the sick fuck? This from a flesh-peddler. Don’t think I was foolish enough to come here not knowing everything there is to know about you. Not by a long shot.”

I’ll admit I was startled. How he’d found out about the trafficking I didn’t know. Perhaps Emily had told him, or he’d assumed, considering my home. Or maybe he’d had time to snoop. In the end it didn’t matter; the information would end with him.

I huffed, smiling. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.” Although how he’d found my house was a question. Though a man who’d gotten away with living a double life and with dozens of murders uncaught wasn’t still walking the streets for being stupid.

“No, although I would have assumed you’d have been smarter than to kidnap a woman from a club with all those cameras recording you.”

Ahhh, the cameras
. I’d thought I’d played a good game and stayed away from having my face caught on camera. Apparently not a good enough job.

“I suppose I haven’t had decades of murdering women to perfect my technique.” I could feel Emily’s eyes burning into me. I wanted to glance down at her and give her a nod of reassurance, but didn’t dare. Pastor William’s eyes were also on me, no doubt analyzing every gesture, every word, every expression. “So tell me, what’s the plan once you kill her? I mean, it’s not like I’m going to just let you walk out of here. Do you think I really care about the slave? She’s just another whore I was preparing to ship off. Kill her if you like, but you’ll be the next to die.”

“Don’t worry about that.” He moved the knife from her throat to her chest and with a flick of the wrist cut a 1 into her chest. Emily screamed out against the ball gag that had been put into her mouth.

Instinctively I lunged forward, but skidded to a stop seeing the knife back to her neck.

“Now this is interesting.” Her father smiled again. “Well, isn’t this very interesting? She’s just not a slave, is she? You’ve actually got feelings for my little girl. I’m going to savour your pain as I kill her. And don’t worry, the only one who’ll be alive after this is me.”

I couldn’t help it, I had to look down and meet Emily’s terrified gaze. Dammit.
 

“Yes. Very interesting.” He moved the knife from her neck to make another slice to her chest, when I took a chance. There was a chance she’d die because of me, but if I didn’t do anything she’d die anyhow. I fired the gun, hitting him in the shoulder. He jerked back, the knife slicing her along the collarbone.

Racing forward, I wanted to go to Emily, but couldn’t. Not with her father still alive. Just as I rounded the podium he pulled himself to his feet, a revolver in his hand. Of course he hadn’t come here armed with only a knife. He shot, the sound of the gun booming in the room, much louder than my pistol, and I felt a searing pain at my side, just above my left hip. I didn’t allow it to stop me, I couldn’t. Aiming the pistol a second time, I pulled the trigger. This time the bullet lodged itself in his throat. My opponent stumbled backwards, dropping the revolver and attempting to cover the wound in his neck, which was gushing blood.

He’d be dead in seconds.

Walking over to him, I kicked the revolver out of reach and then ran over to Emily. She was unconscious. I removed the ball gag as quickly as possible and began to undo the straps holding her down to the table. Checking over her cuts, I determined they were superficial. They’d scar, a constant reminder of the man her father truly was, but she’d live.

Thank God, she’ll live.

Chapter 28

Emily

“
The Boss told me to tell you that you owe him. Again. He’ll be expecting to be repaid,” a male voice I didn’t recognize said from the other room.

I gave my head a shake as I slowly opened my eyes. My mind felt foggy and it was hard to form a coherent thought.
What happened?
My chest hurt, more of a sting than actual pain. As I attempted to sit up the sting increased. With a groan, I flopped back down on the bed.

“Tell Flynn I’ll be in touch to work something out,” Tanner replied.
 

Tanner
.

“Tanner,” I called out to him, but found my voice failing me. So thirsty. Had Tanner drugged me again? Why in the heck would he drug me? He’d have some answering to do when he got in here.

I attempted to move and again a sharp pain sliced across my chest. Pulling the blanket down, I saw that there were numerous bandages across my chest and collarbone. Picking at the bandage to the far right, I pulled it off just far enough to see a string of stitches in the form of a number 3.

“Whoa, hey. Cover that back up.”

Frowning, I watched as Tanner entered the room and gave me a tired smile. He looked bad, tired, and I noticed that he winced slightly with each step he took. Had the wounds on his back opened back up?

I did as told. “What’s going on?” Crinkling my nose up at him, I added, “Did you drug me again?”

“Yeah, and no.” He took a seat on the edge of the bed next to me and placed his hand on my forehead. “No fever, good.”

“I don’t understand.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

Closing my eyes, I thought back. It took a few minutes and my head began to throb softly from the strain, but it slowly began to come to me. “You were going to go grab a few things. You forgot my list by the way… I was headed for a shower…”

I felt the bed move as he got up. A moment later he returned. “And. Don’t force it. Let it come naturally.” He took my hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. There was something in his expression that made me think that whatever was missing from my memory, I didn’t want to remember.
 

It came to me. “Father!” I bolted upright in the bed and cried out as I got a head rush and the movement tore at my stitches. With a groan I flopped back onto the bed.

“Here drink some of this.” He put a glass of orange liquid to my lips.

“What is it?” I asked, then took a sip, getting my answer – orange juice. “Where’s my father?”

“He’s not here.”

A frown creased my brow. “Where is he?”

Tanner opened his mouth and then snapped it shut, indecision in his eyes. I think this was the first time I’d actually seen him look uncomfortable. And was there a flash of guilt that I was noticing in his eyes?

“Where’s my father, Tanner?” Had he done something? Ohmygod! Panic began to build within me, my eyes growing wide as I stared at his guilty expression. “What did you do?”

“Just… Fuck.” He thrust a hand into his hair and let out a loud huff of air. “Calm down and think. Try to remember.”

Tears streamed down my cheeks, but with them anger surged through me. “You said you wouldn’t hurt my family if I stayed with you!” Bolting upright in the bed, I balled my hands into fists and began to pound on his chest, ignoring the pain. “You promised! What did you do?”

As I was venting, and Tanner was allowing the assault to happen, my mind began to slowly clear. I’d answered the door and it had been my father. He’d punched me. I’d awoken stripped and bound in the showroom. My father had been quoting scripture.

My body froze, my hands fisting the front of his shirt. “I don’t understand. It can’t be true.” It couldn’t be true. It had to be a hallucination based on the drugs.

He didn’t have to ask what I was referring to. “It’s true. I’m sorry.” Tanner took my hands from his shirt and grasped them in his own. “He was going to kill you.”

“You shot him.” I looked down at our hands. How did I process this? I didn’t even know where to begin. “I don’t – I don’t understand. Why?” I finally looked up in his eyes. “Why would he do that? Why would he want to kill me?”

The whole idea seemed too surreal, too insane to even consider. My father was a good man, a man of God. My father wasn’t a murderer. But…

Tanner looked even more uncomfortable. “Your father was a serial killer, Emily. I’m sorry. That’s why you moved so much. He moved you all after every kill. He’d been doing it for over twenty years.”

I shook my head in disbelief, then the question came to me. “How do you know all of this?” I studied his expression. He wasn’t masking his emotions; he was allowing me in, to see everything he was feeling. “You knew.” When he didn’t answer I prompted, “Didn’t you?”

“I figured it out about a week ago, yes. If you want I can show you what I’ve discovered”

“How?” God, this was too much. I was feeling so overwhelmed and there were so many emotions rushing through me that I began feeling numb as I attempted to block them all out.

“I went to your father’s church and met him. And your sister and mother.”