Page 97 of Knotted their Beauty

What they’ve done might be illegal, but it’s not immoral, not if you ask me.

I guess that’s where the term morally gray comes from, and I shouldn’t be shocked to find myself sitting in that murky color with a couple of guys who have a good eleven bodies on me.

“Don’t know shit, huh, Craig?”

“No,” he yelps in pain. “I told her I could get her daughter back, but she didn’t tell me about her goddamn plans!”

“Speaking of plans…” I lift my other hand, placing that gun firmly against his temple while I lean down toward him. “I know they didn’t make you take your clothes off, and since you confirmed you were here with my daughter at some point, I’d really love to fucking know what it was you were going to do with her dressed like that?”

His terrified eyes move back and forth between mine, searching for what, I don’t know.

If he’s looking for mercy, he should know he’s not going to find it. I haven’t hesitated to shoot him once, if he looks hard enough he’ll probably see how much I’m enjoying it. I’ve clearly lost my mind by his standards, by the standards we were taught in Quantico, the same way we were taught there is no coming back from insanity at a certain point.

Which also means, trying to see if he can pinpoint my next move based on my expression is useless.

“That’s what I fucking thought.”

Before he can process what I’m doing, I get off of him and stand to my full height, then proceed to empty both of my guns right into the crotch of his old man boxer shorts.

I stare down at him for a few moments when I’m done, watching his breathing turn from panicked to literally fighting for his life. I’m not going to kill him, I told him I wouldn’t, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to bring him to the brink and let the Grim Reaper do the rest.

The Grim Reaper in the form of two men who’ve managed to earn my trust and respect in a matter of minutes.

“He’s all yours,” I say as I turn to face them and holster my weapons. “They’re in there?”

They both nod, and I give them one of my own, wanting to tell them they don’t need to worry about the FBI anymore because I’m officially off the case and intend to do everything I can to make sure no one else picks it up again, then reach down for the gun at my ankle before I start toward the door.

I grab the knob and turn it slowly, pushing it open a crack to see what’s behind it.

Another room like this one, something I already knew, but when I step in through the small space, I don’t see Tiffany.

I don’t see that fucking cunt anywhere.

I move quickly toward the bathroom, clearing it within seconds before I rip open the closet and start emptying the dresser.

If that bitch took my little girl, I’m going to⁠—

“Daddy?”

All of the air whooshes from my lungs as I spin around, my body sagging in relief when I see Cali start squirming and wiggling out of her place under a large pile of pillows and blankets.

“Hey, baby girl,” I say softly, holstering my gun and walking right for her. I scoop her up in my arms once I’m close enough, and I hug her tighter than I think I ever have.

“Daddy, you’re going to smoosh me.”

I grin and loosen my hold, setting her on my hip so I can see her sweet face and make sure she’s really okay. “Ready to get out of here?”

She nods and pushes her hair out of her eyes with a yawn. “I don’t like Mr. Butler, Daddy.”

“Me either, honey.”

“He stinks.”

I chuckle, knowing damn well she means that literally, as I close the adjoining door then head for the one for this room. “You don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

No one ever has to worry about him again.

“He took me to see Tiffany.”