Page 20 of Bound By Blood and Lies

Maybe she was right when she said I couldn’t protect her from him… How long has he been watching us? The paper crumples slightly under the pressure of my grip before I force my fingers to relax. I fold it once and slide it into my jacket before we sweep the rest of the house together. Nothing else of substance shows up and Felix calls time on the operation. My muscles burn through adrenaline and when we step back outside, the rain has softened but the night hasn’t.

Victor and Riggs nod to us before climbing in the van and putting their focus back on Emily. Felix follows me to drop offour findings in my car before we make quick work of dragging the guards out of sight. Each one is carried across the threshold and laid inside the cottage. Felix pours the accelerant in steady lines as I tip up furniture. I take a look around at this house of horrors and wonder just how many girls have been through here. Taking a breath, I pull out the matches as Felix stands next to me, shoulder to shoulder.

The dry timber beneath the thatch begins to take and the fire moves quickly once it finds oxygen. It curls through beams whilst devouring paper. We step back as heat pushes outward and make our way to the car. The cottage glows orange against the wet black of the countryside and smoke punches into the sky as the roof begins to crack and spit. I turn to see Felix is transfixed by the fire and for the first time, I understand whatever his and Riggs’ fascination is.

We sit in silence, waiting until the building is engulfed in flames before I lean over and the grab the ledger to read it. The code swims at first as numbers blur under the shifting glow. A name embedded inside the cipher, partially obscured by shorthand catches my eye.

Ackworth.

My blood runs cold.

Felix sees the change in my posture and sits up.

“What?” he demands but I have no words.

Instead, I turn the ledger toward him and tap the line. His expression empties first. Then hardens.

“Fuck,” he screams and slams the book. “That MOTHERFUCKER!”

Ackworth being involved was never in question for me. I already knew that. He was complicit in Fae’s abuse long before I ever understood what the keychain meant and once I saw that symbol in his hand there was no room left for doubt.

But this feels different.

This isn’t the passive rot of a man who benefits from a system and pretends not to see it. This ledger reads like structure. Is Ackworth the boss? Is this the ghost we’ve been circling from the start? The thought makes my blood run hot and vicious. I glance at Felix and he looks just as wrecked by it as me.

“You think he’s the boss?” Felix’ voice comes out harsh, echoing my thoughts.

“I think,” I say slowly, watching the roof cave in on itself, “that this is bigger than us all and we’ve been aiming too low.”

“Let’s just fucking go,” he grumbles.

Felix throws the ledger to the back seat as I turn the car on and reverse out of the space. The cottage burns in the rear-view mirror, shrinking as we pull away down the lane. For the first time since this began, I feel the limits of my own reach. And I hate it. But I know what I have to do.

“I’m going to see my dad,” I state and Felix grunts.

If there’s one person who can help, it’s my dad and I’m no longer willing to allow my pride to get in the way.

CHAPTER 7

ROMAN

Istorm through the front doors of my family home, the oak slamming hard enough behind me that the echo travels down the long marble corridor. The scent of polish and old money hangs in the air. From somewhere to my left, I can hear my mother in the kitchen, the gentle clink of porcelain and the low murmur of the radio drifts through the open archway. It is domestic. Familiar.

And downright offensive in its normality.

I don’t stop to greet her. I don’t trust my voice to sound anything but volatile. The copies of the files sit heavy inside the leather folder tucked under my arm. One set is locked in my safe. One set sits in Atlas’ encrypted drive. The originals are secured elsewhere. If this detonates, I will not be the only one holding the evidence.

I take the stairs two at a time and head straight for my dad’s office. The door is half open but I don’t knock. It swings inward and my dad looks up from behind his desk. I can see the flicker of irritation at being interrupted before it transforms into anger as he realises it is me.

“Just the person I wanted to see,” he says, with a clipped tone.

“Funny,” I reply, stepping inside and shutting the door behind me. “I thought the same thing.”

His nostrils flare as he sets his pen down with deliberate care.

“I’ve just had Quinn’s father on the phone,” he says slowly. “He hasn’t heard from her in three days.”

Silence fills the space between us.