“Jeremy,” I snapped when I noticed the color draining from Kevin’s face. Was I the only one in this room not hellbent on killing the suspect?
Christ, I sounded like the old James.
He let go of the man, taking a step back, and allowed Gwen to approach. She had the bat perched on her shoulder again, andfuck,that did something to me. The anger in her eyes, the violent thoughts I knew were swarming her head.
Fucking hell.
I shook my head and cleared my throat. “Why is he keeping you alive? I thought he hated you.”
Kevin was still coughing, which caused James to lose his already thin patience. He yanked his hair harder, looking to my woman. “Batter up, Gwen.”
She didn’t hesitate.
She swung, the bat crashing into the same knee as before. I knew that was her form of mercy; she would leave the man with at least one leg. The fucker should be grateful. He cried out again, thrashing in his chair as Jer rolled his eyes.
His cell began ringing. Grunting, he stepped away, fishing the device out of his jeans to look at the screen. Then, he looked at me. “It’s Dontell.”
I tipped my chin to him.Good. Jer stepped out of the room. “Whatcha got, D?”
“Answer the fucking question,” Gwen hissed.
My chest ached at her tone. She was never meant to feel this kind of hatred, this anger, this pain. This life was never meant for her. She was a light, always had been. Regret settled on my shoulders, weighing a thousand pounds. I should have donebetter. I should have taken her far away from this the second I got that first threat nine years ago.
She deserved to be happy and free, but instead, she was bound by darkness, an aftermath of evil.
“I don’t know, okay! Romano wants me dead, I know that much. When I refused to play for him again, that was the final straw. He wanted me to play for him,” he said, looking at me. My body tensed.
“Kevin Matthews and Dean Connors, the best pitcher and batter in the MLB. Can you imagine all the money we could have brought in?” he sneered before looking back up at Gwen.
“Where is your brother? Your mom?” Gwen questioned, a hint of softness in her voice, mostly like for Ian. She'd always pitied Ian Matthews. As a result of the accident, he was paralyzed from the waist down, his baseball career gone. My jaw clenched at the memory of their father’s cruel words.
“You should have let him die. By saving his life, you reduced him to a goddamn chair!"
Cal Matthews stopped loving his son the second Ian was placed in that chair.
I didn’t lose sleep over killing Cal Matthews, never had. Hell, I wished I could go back and do it again. I looked up from my feet to find James staring at me, his dark eyes cold and emotionless.
“You still playing, Connors?”
I looked at the bleeding, broken pitcher in the chair. “I'll never play again,” I growled.
Kevin stared at me, and eventually, he nodded. “Baseball isn’t fun when bloodshed is involved.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I enjoyed killing your father,” I drawled. He didn’t even blink.
“I wish I could have been there to see it.”
“Where were you that night?” Gwen asked, putting the bat on her shoulder, a hint of impatience in her voice.
He looked at her. “My father threatened to kill my mother and Ian if I didn’t get my shit together. I was there, but only for a few minutes. My father struck me in the face in the employee hallway.”
I remembered that. I was watching from the air vent.
“I left and never looked back. I took my family to the border. My mother—” He looked away, his jaw jumping. “My mother never wanted this life. She was sold into it.”
“Sold?” James released the captive’s hair and came around to face him directly.
“Ray Romano runs several sex trafficking rings across the world,” Kevin answered.
