Page 103 of Wallflower

“Was her hair red when she went missing?”

“Yes.”

“The one who I thought could be your daughter has black hair. There isn’t any reason she would change that without your knowledge?”

“No, sir.”

“She probably dyed it to hide her identity when she ran away from home on a trip to the tropics.” Michelle’s snide voice invades the somber atmosphere as she emerges from the hallway.

Oh, fuck, this bitch is good. Placing the blame on two adults who can legally come and go as they please. Since there’s no body, there’s no proof a crime has been committed. So, I bet they filed a missing person’s report, and that’s where the investigation died. Especially with no evidence of foul play.

Turning to her, I take in Rose’s step-monster, the memory of all she divulged to me reawakening that drive to do theunspeakable. Clearing my throat, I ask, “You think they ran away? Why is that?”

“Those two were hell on wheels together. Always scheming against me. They most likely took off together to cause shit without any prying eyes.”

I look to Patrick. “Is this true? Would they do all this for shits and giggles?”

The battle raging inside Rose’s father is apparent. He doesn’t believe they’d run away, or doesn’t want to believe it. But he doesn’t want to stand against his wife, especially in front of a stranger.

Fine.

Let’s light this candle.

“If you think they left of their own free will, then I wouldn’t have found Rose deep within a sex trafficking ring, would I? Beaten and bloody, almost beyond recognition.”

“What?” Her parents say in unison.

“You’re sure it was her?” Patrick asks, and I nod. “Can you get her out?”

“May—”

“Who’s to say they didn’t willingly take up sex work as a way to pay for their new freedom?” Michelle pipes up, clearly racing to save her ass. “Maybe the whore stepped out of line, and was paying for it?”

“Yeah,” a voice calls out from the top of the stairs, “Rose had a new guy blowing up her phone every week. Maybe she met someone online before the cruise.” Two young men descend the staircase, moving to stand on either side of Michelle, guarding her.

I refuse to believe Rose was as promiscuous as they’re implying, but even if she was, it doesn’t matter now. She’s mine, she’ll live and die on my cock.

The second guy pipes up. “I saw her getting double stuffed at a frat party once, when she went to visit her sister at school.”

This information makes my eye twitch involuntarily. The thought of anyone moving inside my girl makes me near insane. But I’ll promise death to the ones whose tongues are stupid enough to speak ill of her.

“Regardless of her past,” I grind out, “I know she wasn’t willingly in the situation where I found her.” Looking to Patrick, he’s borderline shell-shocked on the couch. Absorbing this information about his daughter that’s being tossed around with no fucking tact.

“How could you possibly know that? The fucked up ones like all sorts of crazy shit.” The one I’m assuming is Tyler speaks up, enjoying the way he can drag his stepsister’s name through the mud.

“They were talking about getting some fat dick while onboard.” The other idiot must be Liam, Tyler’s friend who may as well be his shadow.

“See, Patrick, you raised a couple of whores. Even Chelsea was cheating on poor, sweet Connor.”

“They were only children when you killed their mother,” I snarl. “Seems to me if they liked to cock-hop it has more to do with your parenting than his.” I gesture to Patrick, not taking my eyes off Michelle or the dogs at her side.

“How do you know that?” Patrick whispers.

Oops. Seems I’ve let the cat out of the bag.

“I told you, Patrick. I’ve seen Rose.”

“Yes, seen her. Not talked to her. Not shared life stories. That’s a theory Chelsea has. You would’ve had to talk to Rose…bond with her…for her to tell you that!”