Page 86 of Redemption

“I was in the pub the night you were stabbed. Sometimes I wonder if that episode is why I became fascinated with powerful men being absolutely terrified. Do you remember the expression on his face when he realized the knife was protruding out of your chest?” She crosses her legs and puts her chin in her palm.

I’m not giving her that memory or any other memory she tries to drag out of me where Finn is concerned.

“God, his face.” Her sigh of satisfaction is chilling. “To see it morph to absolute, all-encompassing rage the minute the ambulance door closed was incredible. I’d have taken that rage from him. Sucked him dry. So hot. Don’t you think? Out of control and yet in complete control. Does the thought make you slick with need too?”

“There’s something wrong with you,” I say. “Not just a screw loose. A whole floor in your brain has vanished.”

She chuckles and swivels in her chair. “What do you think, Mum? Reckon you’re the reason I’m missing important sensitivity chips? Though”—she rotates back to me—“I’m not sure I’m missing them so much as they’ve been hard-wired differently. Being raised by a psychopathic father can do that, I suppose.” She stands, and the chair screeches across the floor. “Charles Van de Berg asked you to jump, Mother, and you said how high. Isn’t that right?” She stares at me for a beat. “He was the one who made the illegal deals the FBI tried to pin on you, you know that, right?”

“And you gave the FBI the evidence to makemeappear guilty.”

She wags a finger. “A gamble, in a way. I wondered whether Charles could put aside his own self-interest for his child. Our mother couldn’t. He failed too.” She chuckles. “Which I’m sure you understand since, instead of turning himself into the FBI and admitting his dirty deeds, he resumed control of the company and started making more.”

“I could have gone to prison for a very long time.”

A frown mars her forehead. “Least of your worries right now, sister. You’ll be dead in twenty-four hours when this building caves in on you. The perfect family my mother sought when she left my father will go up in smoke or drown in rubble. Maybe both. I’m looking forward to the carnage.”

Perfect family. God, she’s so deluded. As if I’ve had an idyllic life because I had two parents.

“My life has been far from perfect.”

“Oh, you poor soul.” She clasps her hands in front of her in fake compassion. “Please, tell me the injustice you’ve faced as a pretty, white, rich, blond woman.”

I purse my lips. She’s not getting my trauma to feed off. “I’m sorry your father wasn’t a good man. I’m sorry you were abused. Seeking to hurt other people because you’ve been hurt doesn’t make any of it better.”

She laughs. “Funny—isn’t that Finn’s calling card? Fuck with me, and I’ll fuck with you harder? I’m not sure how you said those words with a straight face. Highly amusing, though. I’ll give you that.” She laughs again. She slices another cut on each cheek. Had she put crosses on my cheeks? I don’t have any desire to be a martyr.

“I need to figure out how to get Lucas here, and then I can wipe out the whole Van de Berg line. The legacy our mother tried to build without me will be gone.”

Behind Jade, my mother’s tears are soaking her shirt.

“You’ll never get my son.” It’s false bravado. Will Semyon sell us out? Finn’s taste for revenge is a powerful motivator to stay loyal.

“No matter.” She waves her hand. “If I can’t get him now, I can get him later. He won’t be a guest of Semyon Volkov forever.”

A chill races down my spine. She knows where he is. “Finn would never let you near Lucas.”

She smirks. “After you’re dead, Finn will either die trying to avenge you or he’ll end up back in jail. I’m not worried about Finn Donaghey. He’s no match for me.”

I stare at her, our gazes locked. “Then you’re even more of a fool than I thought.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Finn

Threecarsintotal.Two are Thomas’s, and the third must be a PLA junker. Lorcan, me, and Thomas’s men are piecing together what we think happened based on tread marks on the ground and the crash sites. Except for the driver of the vehicle we suspect had Carys, the men were shot execution-style while inside their vehicles. None of them escaped.

Definitely an ambush.

My pulse pounds with frustration, outright anger, and dread. Was Carys hurt? There’s a trickle of blood in the back seat. She’s still got a broken wrist. Helplessness threatens to get a foothold. I’ve got no space for that useless emotion. I must get her back.

If she wasn’t hurt, what does the PLA intend to do with her? Where have they got her? If they wanted her dead, they could have shot her here. They either want something from her, or there’s a performance aspect to killing or injuring her. Jade likes to create fear.

She’s got my attention, but I’m not afraid yet, just unbelievable angry. At least Carys is alive. We need to figure out Jade’s plan before Carys suffers.

Lorcan’s shoulder brushes mine. “I reckon we should go back to Thomas and regroup. Nothing on the driver of the PLA car or in the car itself.”

“I told her not to leave. I told her. I warned her I had a bad feeling, and she still went.”

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