Chapter 7

Tillie

Ican hear soft jazz music playing the moment we step into Franco's house. It might be French jazz, with a low and husky voice singing. It's the type of music that is meant to create a calming environment for everyone to relax, have wine with friends and family, and make memories with laughter.

It instantly puts me on edge, leaving goosebumps to appear on my arms as soon as the door shuts behind us. The sound of the lock clicking shut makes me jump. I have the strongest urge to run. It's something I can't control; it's as if my body is saying, Fuck this shit. Flee before you end up with a bullet in your forehead.

"Hey. Look at me." Logan's voice is like warm, dripping syrup as he grasps my chin and makes me look up at him. "I won't let anything happen to you."

Protectiveness gleams in his honey eyes, a promise that can go unspoken: I'm safe with him, no matter what.

"I won't let anything bad happen to you either. Both of you," I whisper, straightening my spine as I feel Dom glide up to my side and watch him pull a handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe blood precisely away from his fingers with a pleased grin adorning his face.

"Have fun?" I ask Dom with a raised brow as I look pointedly at his bloody hands.

"Yes. I could always go another round with Franco's men. It's really a shame how easy they are to kill. I stabbed one of the men with a neat plunge to the throat, and the other hired help dropped his gun and ran for the gates without alerting anyone that I was on the property. The security measures make me break out in hives." Dom fakes a shiver and trails his fingers down my back as he guides me into the house.

He does have a point, though. It was stupid easy how he got rid of men roaming the grounds on the property. We pulled in through the gate in Logan's car, and Dom slipped out the back door as the car was still moving. He disappeared into the shadows so easily and took out five men like it was a walk in the park for him.

Logan snorts under his breath and rolls his eyes at Dom just as he passes us. So he takes the lead, and Dom trails behind us. I know they are silently protecting me from all sides, and that alone warms my heart.

I really do have nothing to fear.

The sound of my heels click against the tile floors as we walk past the living room and kitchen. I can hear Diana laughing at something and another male voice I don't recognize. Logan calmly enters the dining room, a step ahead of us, with confidence in the way he gracefully walks with his broad shoulders straight as if everyone else is beneath him.

"Son. Nice of you to join us." I can practically hear Franco's teeth grinding together in anger; we are only five minutes late.

It takes time to kill anyone; he's lucky we haven't arrived later than we have. He doesn't need to get his panties in a twist; he should know it takes time and patience to eliminate the enemy. I know for a fact that Franco's hands are stained red no matter how hard he scrubs his hands in hot water.

"Logan! You remember Paris's father, Judge Alderson. Have a seat here! We are just waiting on Paris. She seems to be running late, too. Speaking of tardy, have you seen my daughter?" I round the corner just as Diana chokes out the word daughter in a falsely, cheerful tone.

"I wouldn't miss this for the world, Mother," I drawl out slowly, disgust laced in my tone. I can't help it.

She won't ever be my mother. I used to pray for Lorrie to show any type of motherly love for her child, but I stopped dreaming a long time ago. Diana brought me into this cruel world, but she doesn't mean anything else to me. I could probably meet a stranger on a train who would show me kindness, which she has shown me in the short time we've interacted.

She sneers at me, her deep red lips curling, before she straightens her expression into something false, since Judge Alderson clears his throat awkwardly.

"Judge," Logan says in a bored tone as he addresses the balding man next to Diana, "I'm sure Paris will be joining us very soon."

Logan's voice sounds a little too sinister as he drops the cooler on the floor next to his chair by Franco, and it takes a lot of effort to not grin at the inside joke. Diana swallows nervously as her hands flutter in her lap, and Franco's wine sloshes on the table as he places his drink down a little too hard.

"Sit down, now. We were just having a conversation about the new shipment coming in soon. Alderson has pulled some strings and assured me that a few witnesses have come forward and won't be saying anything after all." The double meaning in Franco's voice isn't hard to figure out. Any witnesses who talk will be silenced by any means necessary.

I saunter over next to Logan as he pulls out the chair for me, his lips brushing my temple with affection once I'm seated. I peer across the table at Alderson to see the sour expression crossing his face, his beady eyes behind his glasses glaring at me. I can only imagine Logan touching me in any way that is going to make Alderson angry. He probably has plans for Paris and Logan, wedding bells, and popping out babies just so he can be on Franco's good side.

I wrinkle my nose at him but grin as I trail my hand down Logan's arm once he sits beside me. I want Judge Alderson to know that I'm oh so painfully familiar with the man sitting close enough to me that my hand disappears under the table to grab the hard thigh and climb higher.

Logan doesn't say anything. His expression is stoic, but a glance down shows me the little game I'm playing makes him deliciously hard. I gaze up from under my lashes with a sly smirk at the judge and love how red his face gets in his barely contained rage.

"One moment, Franco. We can't start dinner without my new partner. It's rude to talk about business behind his back. Dom. Please, do join us." Logan's voice comes out bored, as if he's talking about the weather instead of one of his father's rivals.

I peek over my shoulder with a grin as Dom strolls into the room, as if he owns the place, his arms casually clasped behind his back as he surveys the scene in front of him. His eyes are heavy-lidded, slowly drifting his gaze over Diana, Alderson, and, lastly, Franco. If I didn't know him and understood the way he likes to observe people for their weaknesses, I'd almost say he looks entirely unbothered for being a target in a room of people who hate him.

"What the fuck?" Franco shouts, his chair scraping back as he starts to stand and grips a steak knife in his fist. Except Dom puts a stop to a raging Franco by leveling a gun at his forehead.

"Now, now. Is that any way to treat a guest?" Dom clicks his tongue and shakes his head at Franco, like he's a great disappointment for behaving rudely. "Logan. I'm starting to see why you were a complete ass the first time we met, but you've really grown on me. At least you have some manners. Obviously, you must have gotten those from your mother."

"What can I say? Once you start fucking the same girl, you end up finding out you have a lot in common with the enemy." Logan sloshes the red wine glass he stole from Franco and sips it like he doesn't have a care in the world.

I'm impressed. He can act so nonchalant and appear bored while everyone else is practically sweating in their seats. Who will kill who first is going around the table as we all stare at each other with shifting, untrusting eyes.

"I knew when I let you into my house that you would only cause trouble. You couldn't turn out to be anything but a slut. Being raised by bikers only leads to your thighs spreading," Diana directs at me as she pretends to clutch pearls around her neck, her voice laced with disgust.

"You would know, wouldn't you, Diana?" I sneer back at her, flicking my gaze up and down at her as if she's filthy. "I didn't have a choice about who ended up between my legs, but at least I didn't beg for it. Especially when your husband was eating my pussy like he was starving. Funny, I didn't ask for that either."

"How dare you talk to me like that? You're nothing but an unwanted whore and always will be," Diana screeches like a banshee, her ridiculous blonde hair not moving as she whips her head over to Franco. "Are you going to let her talk to me that way?"

Franco hasn't looked away from Dom the whole time. His forehead is damp with sweat, and his eyes are bloodshot with rage.

"Shut the fuck up, Diana," Franco hisses between his teeth, glancing over at his wife out of the corner of his eye with a warning look to behave or else.

Diana huffs and clenches her fists on the white silk linen covering the table. I shift my gaze to Alderson, who hasn't made a peep since Dom entered the room. He looks like he's seconds away from the grave, his complexion gray and his breathing harsh.

"I no longer recognize you as my son. You're dead to me for being a traitor," Franco says in a low voice, but for some reason he doesn't look so surprised by this outcome; he has pure anger in his eyes.

"You already knew," I state, staring pointedly at Franco as he turns to look at me.

"You were all foolish and naive to think Jin doesn't have eyes and ears everywhere," Franco says smugly, his expression causing a shiver down my spine.

"You are the fool, Franco. My mother doesn't have peace because of you. She's rolling in her grave at the man you've become. She wouldn't recognize you, and I almost lost myself because of you. This whole time you've been blind, letting Jin whisper into your ear like the devil." Logan slams his fist on the table, causing the fine china to rattle as he grabs the rolled-up file out of his suit jacket and throws it in front of Franco on the table.

Franco glances down and back at Logan before slowly picking up the file, opening it with what I can only describe as apprehension on his face as the blood drains from his cheeks.

"You can't—you have no right to threaten us! I am a judge! I'll have you all thrown in jail, where you'll never see the light of day again." Alderson raises his voice with each threat, but his hands shake on the surface of the dining table, giving away his fear.

"People always think that money will give you power, but that's far from the truth. Don't get me wrong, it's a big part. However the real thing that makes men quake in terror at your presence is not being afraid to do what is necessary to rise to the top. My hands are covered in blood, and my men's hands are covered in blood. They follow me because I'm not scared to get my hands dirty. I must say that Tey has a wonderful way of showing everyone that he is something to fear. For example… Logan?" Dom smirks at Franco but addresses Alderson the whole time before flickering his eyes at Logan with a nod to the cooler.

"Ah. I almost forgot Tey's thank-you gift for hosting dinner. He's sorry he couldn't make it but hopes this centerpiece is enough to show how much he regrets not making it." Logan's honeyed eyes darken just like his voice, downright sinful and with a hint of glee.

It's as if everyone is holding their breath as Logan reaches down and opens the cooler. The moment is suspenseful, especially since no one can see what he's doing. I haven't even seen what Tey has done with his artwork. While everyone is watching Logan, Dom strolls around the table on silent feet with his gun still trained on Franco, but he stops right behind Alderson just as the floral arrangement from Tey is placed on the center of the table with a loud bang.

Diana lets out an ear-splitting scream just as Alderson makes a choked sound of horror. My gaze flicks over to Franco, and my eyebrows shoot up as he calmly stares at the centerpiece without blinking, the file crumpled in his fist. His only sign that he's furious is the pulse thudding on his neck and tense shoulders. He suddenly reaches out and slaps Diana with the back of his hand. Her screaming is cut off so suddenly that I can hear Alderson sobbing in his seat.

"Quiet! Or I'll make sure you can't make another noise," Franco threatens in a furious voice, his eyes coolly staring down at Diana. She quickly shuts up and bends her head down until she's staring at her tightly clasped hand in her lap.

"M-my bab-baby girl!" Alderson chokes out behind his sobs and only stays sitting because Dom is holding him down with his hand on the judge's shoulder.

"The world is a better place without Paris. You gotta hand it to Tey, he really has a unique way of expressing his artwork." Logan leans back in his seat, his long legs spread out like a king in his royal court.

My stomach is queasy because Tey really outdid himself by making a statement with Paris's decapitated head. The sight is gruesome yet oddly beautiful. I think I might be losing my mind. Her lips are forever stuck into a stiff smile, her eyes closed as if she's sleeping, and she has a very gray complexion. No one can mistake her for sleeping, though, since, well, she's only a head on a silver platter glued to her perfectly cut neck.

The bullet hole on her forehead is surrounded by a heart of paint, something like face paint you would see at a carnival. It's hard to look away; it's a sight that sends shivers down your spine, but the flowers are so pretty that you can't take your eyes off Paris. The part of her head where the bullet exited left a big, gaping hole, but Tey killed it with flowers.

White roses.

Rebirth and innocence.

It's perfectly ruined by the splashes of dark red blood staining the flowers.

"Are you okay, mama?" Dom asks from across the table, his deep brown eyes looking at me with concern as a few tears drip down my cheek.

"Oh! Yes. It's just… really beautiful in a deadly poetic way. Ya know?" I hastily wipe my tears and grin slightly to let him know I'm okay before gesturing to proceed with the killing.

"I can't wait to tell Tey his art made you cry." Logan chuckles in amusement and reaches for my hand that just wiped away tears, kissing my knuckles before standing up while buttoning his deep blue suit jacket.

"Dom. If you would, please. I'd like to make it to fight night and fuck our girl until she can't walk." Logan nods toward Dom, who grabs a fork off the table over the whimpering judge's shoulder.

Without hesitating, he plunges the fork into Alderson's neck, right over an artery, and pulls it out just as fast. A spray of red gushes out of his neck as he gurgles out a cry, showering Diana like a waterfall with warm blood. She screams again with her eyes squeezed shut and a mouth full of blood. She looks like a scene from the movie Carrie. It's only a couple seconds before her screaming stops as she passes out and topples out of her chair, face-planting on the floor out cold. All the while, Dom has his gun still trained on Franco; he makes him watch the judge slowly choke on his own blood. We all watch as Alderson takes his last breath. He slumps forward and dies, his face ending up in a salad.

"Where did you get this file?" Franco asks in a quiet voice, his gaze pinned on Logan with intensity as he holds up the real evidence of his wife's death.

"Your business partner keeps all his dirty work on file. How does it feel to know that you've been shaking hands with the man who killed your wife? My mother!" Logan shouts suddenly as years of rage unleash itself, towering over his father and getting right in his face.

"I didn't know," Franco whispers, staring wide-eyed at Logan. "I didn't know! He murdered my Helen!" Franco yells out with a haunting, grief-filled pain that causes my skin to break out in goosebumps.

I almost, and I mean almost, feel bad for him. Only he deserves this for all the years of hurting his son over and over again. He took an oath to protect and serve but ended up bending and molding into someone evil while turning a blind eye to all the real answers to his pain. He's ruined lives. Killed without remorse to those who didn't deserve it. He made his son hate him and almost made Logan into a villain who would be in so deep that he'd never be able to leave.

"I thought about killing you so many times. You haven't been my father for years. You became a complete stranger to me once Mom died. I want you to suffer. You're going to live with the knowledge that you've been lying in bed with her murderer this whole time. I'm no longer your son," Logan says, his tone harsh and low as his chest heaves.

Franco groans, the sound of pain filled with agony as if he's just finding out his wife died all over again. A broken man sits in his chair, staring up at his son with watery eyes.

"Logan. I'm sorry-," Franco cuts off with a loud gasp as he looks down at his stomach with disbelief on his face.

My chair clatters to the floor as I stand in shock with my hand over my mouth and tears blurring my vision. Logan stands there panting, his right hand dripping blood around the steak knife he's holding in a tight grip.

I hadn't even seen him grab the knife off the dining table. He appears almost manic-looking as he stabs Franco two times in the stomach. His eyes are hard, focused on Franco with pure hatred. I blink rapidly, clearing the tears, and slowly approach him, my heart breaking for him.

"Logan?" I softly whisper, gently placing my hand on his arm and gaining his attention off his slumped-over father who's groaning in pain.

He looks down at me, confused, and his eyes are distant with scrunched brows.

"Tillie," Logan gasps like he can't breathe and draws me into his arms until my cheek is plastered to his suit jacket.

He squeezes tight as if he's afraid to let go, as if he'll drown without me keeping him afloat. I just hold him tighter to let him know I'm here.

"It's okay. You're okay," I say over and over into his neck as I stand on my tiptoes so only he can hear me.

He says nothing except kisses my forehead, drawing in a shuddering breath as he straightens.

"He showed you mercy today, Franco. I personally would love to see you suffer. Be the one to end your life for fucking mine up. You are only alive because he has deemed it. Make no mistake, if you don't bleed out to death and for some stupid, fucking reason to ever show your face again… I won't hesitate to torture you to death." Dom says this with his gun under Franco's chin, so he's looking up at him, seeing the promised threat in his dark eyes.

To emphasize his point, Dom leans forward and places his fingers on the stab wound, digging his digits into Franco's flesh as he sits there, grunting in agony.

"Son," Franco gasps out and glances over to Logan with pleading eyes.

"You're already dead to me," Logan says in a hollow voice with no emotion as he glances away from his father, whom he once looked up to.

"Let's get out of here." I wrap my arm around his waist, sticking to his side for support as we turn away and start to leave while Dom nods his head to go. He'll follow along shortly, no doubt not done with threatening Franco, but the next words stop me in my tracks with the blood draining from my face.

"Cru-Cruz wants m-me to give you a-a mess-message," Franco says between gasps.

I almost don't twist around. I want to walk out the door and pretend I never heard him. But I can't. No more running.

Logan turns with me, his posture stiff, and suddenly he's the one having to hold me up.

"My pocke-t," Franco stutters out with a cough and weakly pulls out something in his suit jacket with weak hands.

Dom quickly grabs it. His expression is worried, his brown eyes wide as he looks at the object in his grasp before peering over at me.

"What is it this time?" I choke out, my hands gripping Logan's jacket as my heart starts pounding in dread.

"I don't think—" Dom trails off and glances at Logan as they silently communicate over my head.

"Just show me," I demand with a deep exhale and will my hands to stop shaking.

"Maybe this isn't the right time, baby girl. Let's go to the compound and sit down," Logan starts to say, but I glare up at him and lift my chin.

"I'm not weak or a damsel in distress. I can take it. Fucking show me," I demand in a stern voice, not looking away from him until he lets out a sigh and nods toward Dom.

Swinging my gaze over, Dom hesitates and strides over to me with determined steps.

"I don't know what this means, mama, but whatever it is, we'll face it together," Dom promises as he looks down at me with overprotectiveness in his eyes that's slightly tender at the same time.

I hold my hand out, watching his one eye twitch as if he's about to change his mind, except he sees the stubborn expression on my face. He gently places the object in my hand while holding my gaze, and I bite my lip, afraid to look down.

"You're safe. No one will hurt you," Logan whispers in my ear, rubbing my back with soothing strokes.

"Son," Franco whispers pleadingly behind us, his voice weak.

We ignore him as both Dom and Logan walk me out of the kitchen and into the hallway so we don't have to listen to Franco shouting for his son to come back.

Gathering courage, I look down at my palm and blink rapidly, not believing what I'm seeing at first. It's a finger—a male index finger, judging by the size and thickness. I stare in confusion, my heart racing as I try to understand what the message means.

Cruz sent me a finger.

My attention is drawn to the shiny ring still on the digit. I hold it up to the light and feel my hand slacken its grip on the finger in shock.

"Baby girl?" Logan asks in concern, tightening his grip on me as I sway on my feet.

"Do you know who that belongs to?" Dom crouches down to my height as black dots blur my vision.

"Rig," I rasp just before passing out.