Harman finally turns to look at me, though his glare is a weak, watery thing. "That's not fair. It was more complicated than that."
"Bullshit. Rocco and Trent wanted the money. You were just too much of a chickenshit to oppose them. So you let them take everything from me. Home. Family. Club. All of it gone because of your lies."
"Oh my God," Brooklyn whimpers. "Oh, my God. The glove...you never take it off. I thought maybe a scar or a bad tattoo. But it's...you were..."
I smile gently. "You always were a smart girl."
"Don't condescend to her, you asshole," Kase snarls. "What's she talking about?"
"Daddy never took off his glove. Not around Malick, not when he slept, not even around me. I always wondered what he didn't want me to see. It's a tattoo. It'sthetattoo," she whispers. "Because you were a Spade, weren't you? You and mom both."
"Bullshit," Cruz says, though his voice lacks volume now. He backs up and leans heavily against a stool. "Not possible."
I remove my glove once more and brandish it with a flourish, relishing the expression on every face but my daughter's. Shock. Anger. Disbelief. More anger.
"You just got that," Cruz accuses, falling back on the only defense he has left.
"Does this look like new ink to you, kid? I haven't had this touched up in decades. I wasn't just a Spade, I was the Spade. I came up with the charter. I recruited members. I created the Black Spade Casino. And all you ungrateful shits ever did was throw me under the bus. So yes, I tried to kill your father. I shed not a fucking tear when he finally got what was coming to him. But all this waffling bullshit you're doing? It's endangering Penelope's life. Believe me or don't, but the fact is, I don't have enough men left to rescue her on my own, or I'd have done it already. So either stop pussyfooting around and finish what your father started or help me. Up to you."
Cruz's fingers flex around the gun, weighing the decision seriously.
"Why?" he asks finally. "Why do you want to save her?"
It brings me up short. I can't blurt out the truth.
Because I'm falling in love.
Instead, I shrug. "My reasons are my own. I'll need to call the last of the men loyal to me and have them cross the boundary line. If we merge our forces, it may be enough."
Cruz nods absently, but it's a minute more before he speaks. "Fine. We'll do this. But I have one condition."
"Name it."
"When she's back, you leave her the fuck alone. You disappear into the woodwork and never show your face again, and I'll let those men over the boundary line."
The words fly out of my mouth without a second of hesitation. "Done."
I've already disappeared once. It's a small price to pay for one life. And maybe it's ultimately better this way.
Cruz smiles grimly. "All right, then. I guess we have a deal."
19
Penelope
Kase calls Marcus at half-past two, arranging the details on where they'll be meeting to do the swap. Marcus acts like he's merely an informant, here to help my brothers and concerned for me. I sit yards away with Kylie dragging a gag between my teeth to keep me from screaming at them.
They ultimately decide to meet at a warehouse in the Kings' territory. I know from experience that nothing good ever happens in warehouses. Marcus will turn on my brothers first chance and shoot them in the back.
The closer we get to the ambush point, the more excited Avis gets. I drag the cloth from my mouth when Marcus hangs up the phone and shoot her a poisonous glare.
"Can you at least act like you're not jacking off to this?" I hiss.
Avis smiles sweetly down at me. "Afraid not. You see, I'm looking forward to this part."
To the part where she took Marcus out and assumed total control of the Hellions. I can only imagine just how ruthless they'll become with her at the head. I have to stop this somehow.
Marcus' cargo van jerks to a stop outside of the warehouse district, and the pair of men from before each seize one of my arms and wrestle me from its interior. I struggle as hard as I can, but between the debilitating pain, lack of good sleep, and the sheer emotional gauntlet I've been forced to run in the last twenty-four hours, my resistance is pitiful.
