“Honorable,” a new voice scoffed. It was Dominic. I recognized the sneer. “He’s a grunt. A paid killer. We’re just giving him a reason to retire.”
“Grab her,” Victor commanded.
The recording dissolved into the sounds of a scuffle—a chair scraping, Tessa screaming. Not a scream of fear, but of fury. “Get off me! Get off!”
Then a sickening thud. The first hit.
I flinched in the dark dining room as if I had been hit myself.
“Hold her legs, Mason. Grant, get her arms. Don’t let her move.”
I paused the tape. I couldn’t listen to the rest. Not yet. I had heard enough to know the truth. The police report was a lie. The robbery was a fairy tale. This was a family meeting.
I put the recorder in my pocket and stood up. The sadness that had been weighing on my chest evaporated. In its place, something cold and hard settled in. It was a feeling I hadn’t felt since my last tour in the mountains. Clarity.
