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House Rules(82)

By:Rebecca Brooke


“We’ll get him.”

With nothing left to say, I hung up and climbed into Ashton’s car. Time to pay Dad and Mom a quick visit. I’m sure Mom was flipping out about Tess, especially considering I hid our relationship from her. Dad was incredibly open with Mom so I had no doubt that she would know everything by now. I just hoped she backed off long enough for me to get Wasden. After that, she could reprimand me all she liked.

I pulled up at the valet but didn’t bother stopping to chat like I normally would. I’d make up for it with a decent tip. When they had Wasden, I wanted to be ready to go.

The elevator doors opened and I stuck my key card in for the penthouse. A few minutes later, I walked through the front door.

“Miller?” Mom’s voice called from the kitchen.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

She ran out, wrapping me in a hug. “I’m so sorry to hear what happened to Tess. I wish you would have told us when we met her. I’d have gotten to know her before now.”

I patted her on the back. “You will, as soon as she’s back on her feet.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

I shrugged and took a step back to lean against the couch. “At first, I wasn’t sure it would last long. We had a bumpy start. Once things settled down, Dad started giving me shit about things not getting done at the dealership. I was worried if he found out, he would think I wouldn’t be able to handle running the business as well as being in a relationship.”

“Actually, if I would have known it was a woman who grabbed your attention and not a variety of pussy, I would have backed off.”

I looked at my dad striding across the room, his brows heavily set. “You would have backed off?”

“Fucking a bunch of different women takes time. If you’re going out every night just to get your dick hard and get off. Maybe a bit of attention you have to use to get the girl off. Now, a relationship? That’s work, but something more. You have someone to share the load with. Feelings are involved and things can get ugly quickly if you’re not careful.”

“Probably why things are a fucking hot mess right now.”

Dad’s face hardened. “Oh, some bastard is going to pay. The question is, how much. Do you love her?”

“What?” I narrowed my eyes.

“Do you love her?” He moved to stand directly in front of me. “Are we breaking bones or are we maiming? I’ll teach a man a lesson for hurting a woman, but if you love her then she’s family and no one fucks with family, Miller. You know that.”

“More than you can imagine.” The words left my lips and I meant them. Mom squealed.

“Finally,” she said, staring up at the ceiling. “Just know, after all this is over you and I will be having a discussion about keeping secrets.”

I nodded once. I was losing patience with all of this shit. I needed to get to Wasden. The phone in Dad’s office rang and we looked at each other before moving quickly. Dad shut the door behind him. My mom knew everything that went on, but sometimes plausible deniability was all that separated her from the men. It was an important distinction, though. Dad had a rule: business shit never touched the women.

“Malcolm,” he said, hitting the button for speaker and announcing himself.

Brock’s voice came over the line. “We have him.”

“The club. Twenty minutes,” I answered.

“We’ll be there.”

The line went dead and I gathered up my stuff, eager to get over there and get shit sorted.

“The club?” Dad asked, shrugging on his coat.

I nodded. “I installed an additional two layers of sound proofing.”

“Good.”

My desire to kill Wasden got stronger when I thought about how Tess looked lying in that hospital bed; battered, bruised, broken. I pulled into my space around the back of the club. Brock was already there. It would be hard to miss the Chevelle with its cherry red paint.

I led my dad through the bar and dance floor to the wall in the back. There was a simple looking door. A half empty storage room; at least, anyone walking into the room would see it as such. Not much in there except a few filing cabinets, extra chairs and tables. The moment I stepped through I lunged for Ray, foiled only by my dad’s arms wrapped around my waist.

“He needs to talk first. Talk then hurt.”

He was right. I needed answers; specifically, how he knew where to find her. His wrists were bound behind him, holding him against the chair. I couldn’t see what Brock had used but knowing him like I did, I would have said zip ties. They were quick, painful, and the more they squirmed the tighter they became. It would be a bonus if he broke his own wrist trying to get loose.