The room stills. Nick’s posture straightens in the chair.
“What the hell does that mean?” he asks.
“Jack had a business partner years ago,” he says. “A man who decided he didn't like the way Jack ran things.”
My pacing stops.
“So what?” Maverick says. “Business partners fall out all the time.”
Tristan’s smile widens just enough to show the blood on his teeth.
“This one didn't just fall out. He was going to expose Jack.”
The words hang in the air.
“Suddenly,” Tristan continues softly. “The man's wife dies in an accident.”
“What about the husband?” Elias asks.
Tristan shrugs.
“He survived. But was declared unstable, so he was institutionalized."
My chest tightens.
“You’re saying Jack Steele had him locked in a psych ward.” Nick’s voice drops.
Tristan nods slowly. “Convenient thing about money. You can make anything disappear.”
“And the kid?” I ask, my hands fisting at my sides.
“Eventually went into the system.” A beat of silence. “Melissa made sure she stayed right where she wanted her until she was ready.”
“Ashlynn,” I whisper.
My body trembles violently as the pieces begin snapping together.
“They paid off DHS to keep her in the system,” I growl. “She spent ten years bouncing around from home to home. Being abused and neglected.” My gaze lifts slowly back to Tristan. “Why?”
“The thing about my dear aunt is she needed to have a child, but she didn't want to raise one. So they kept her in homes that their foundation funded until she was old enough to be self-sufficient but still moldable.”
“They groomed you.”
“She’s been a puppet her whole life,” Nick mutters.
He stands abruptly, the chair clattering to the floor behind him. Nick drags a hand down his face, his eyes locking with Elias’.
I cross the room before I realize I’ve moved. Tristan barely has time to register it before my fist connects with the side of his fucked-up face. The crack of bone against knuckles echoes off the concrete walls as his chair tips sideways, and slams into the floor. He groans as his arms are crushed under his weight, fresh blood spilling from his split lips.
Nick and Elias don’t move. Maverick doesn't stop me.
Good.
Because if any of them tried right now, I’d probably put them through a fucking wall.
I snatch Tristan by the front of his shirt and haul him upright. His head lolls to the side before he blinks up at me, dazed. My grip tightens in his collar.
All I see is Ashlynn. Ashlynn on the pavement. Ashlynn unconscious in that wheelchair. Ashlynn trembling in my arms at the rest stop. Ashlynn standing in the window with tears in her eyes as I walk away.
