I stared at the empty bottle in my hand. If whipped was feeling anxious when you didn’t hear from the woman you shared your bed with each night, then yeah, I was fucking whipped. If it was worrying about her when she wasn’t with you, and thinking about her all the fucking time, then I was absolutely, 100 percent whipped. Something I never thought I’d be. And something that scared the shit out of me. Not because I didn’t want to feel that way about her, but because being with me could be dangerous for her. To hold that responsibility in my hands was more than I thought I could handle at times.

I took a deep breath and met Devil’s gaze again. “Yeah, you could be on to something there, brother.”

He grew serious. “I like Tatum. Not that it matters what I think, but a chick like that, who doesn’t take your shit and who stands by you regardless, that’s a chick worth having in your life.”

“You ever had that before?”

“Yeah, but I always fuck it up. One day I might get that shit right.” He jerked his chin at the bar. “You want another beer?”

I nodded, and he left me alone while he headed to the bar. Staring at my phone again, I decided to call Tatum, but as I swiped to dial her number, the phone rang. It wasn’t a number I knew.

When I answered it, a man’s voice sounded. “Is that Rhys Lockwood?”

My gut tightened. No one called me that anymore. Except for Joseph, but this wasn’t my uncle on the line and sounded too formal to be anyone he would associate with. “Speaking.”

“Rhys, it’s Matt Logan here, Marilyn’s psychologist.”

I dropped my head into my hand as fear filled me. “Is she okay?” He never phoned me. This couldn’t be good.

“To be honest, I’m not convinced she is. I just had a phone call from her and she was in such a state that I called an ambulance to her house. This phone call to you is highly unusual, I never do this, but I feel it’s crucial I pass some information on to you.” He took a breath before continuing, “Marilyn saw the man who raped her today.”

The man who raped her? I fucking killed that man. There was no way she could have seen him.

“Doc, that’s not possible. That guy is dead.”

“I’m not referring to the recent rape. I’m referring to the ones from when she was a child.”

The room spun.

I gripped the phone so tightly it should have shattered into pieces.

My mind ran in a million different directions.

This couldn’t be happening.

“You’re telling me that my sister was raped when she was a child?”

Silence.

And then—“I thought you knew.”

I was on my feet before I realised it and walking out of the clubhouse. I could hardly process what he was telling me. My need for violence was extreme. I wanted to punch and kick and thrash and scream this injustice out of me.

Not my Lynny.

It was where her darkness came from, and I’d never known. She’d kept this shit wrapped up tight and it had almost killed her. I should have been there for her. More. I should have done more.

“Rhys, are you still on the line?”

“Yeah, I’m here.” The words came out a strangled mess. “Who did this to her?”

Deep in my gut I knew. I fucking knew.

“It was your uncle,” he said quietly, his words full of regret. “I’m sorry you’re hearing this from me. I honestly thought she’d told you.”

I clenched my fists as I made my way to my bike. “What happened today? Did he hurt her?” I would fucking drag his death out for this. I would make him hurt so fucking much for every ounce of pain he’d caused Marilyn.

“No, he didn’t approach her. She saw him outside her house. Apparently, he was sitting in a car looking at the house for a while and then drove off. I thought it appropriate you know this information so you could take steps to avoid him coming near her again.”

I’d fucking take steps. Joseph would never set foot near Marilyn again.

I needed to get off the phone and deal with this. “Thanks, Doc. I’ve got this covered.”

I ended the call and started my bike. Screaming out of the parking lot, I almost collided with Kick who was entering. Narrowly missing him, I sped towards Marilyn’s house. The ambulance might get there before me, but in case not, I wanted to check on her.

The ride home passed in a blur and as I pulled around the corner of her street, I watched an ambulance drive away.

My phone had vibrated with a call on the way there so I took a moment to stop and check who it had been. I was still waiting to hear back from Tatum.

There was one missed call from Devil. No message. I’d call him later. All I wanted to do was head to Joseph and deal with him. I didn’t want to involve Devil or any Storm members in that. I needed to put the past to rest by myself. And I also didn’t want to waste time waiting for help.

My phone rang before I pulled back out into the traffic. I placed it to my ear without checking caller ID. “Yeah?”

“Rhys.”

I froze.

Joseph.

A dark cloud circled over me as my gut twisted.

When I didn’t speak, he said, “I have something of yours.”

My world crashed down around me.

I dry-heaved.

Every good thing I had in my life, he ruined.

Tatum.

“Do not lay a finger on her, Joseph.”

“Oh, my boy, I’ve already laid every finger I have on her.”

I clutched my stomach and dry-heaved again as the ticking of a time bomb blasted in my head.

Joseph continued, “You can have her back, Rhys, so long as you give me what I want. It’s a fair exchange. But the longer you take to come to me, the more I’m tempted to sample her and find out what it is she has that you’ve traded everything for.”

I didn’t think he could wreck me more than he already had. I was wrong. The thought of him touching Tatum delivered me into a new state of madness. Complete and utter madness.

“Text me where you are. I’ll be there.”

I jabbed at the phone to end the call and slammed my hand down on my bike. “Fuck!” I roared, letting it all out.

This was unbearable.

It was every fear I’d ever had come to life.

To be the reason her life was in danger was a living hell.

And to even think about losing her spiralled me into a dark abyss full of violence and brutality.