Silence continued to greet me, so I opened the file and pulled out the large photographs, keeping them facing me.

“You know what else I find funny? That Serena and Nadia finally got over their hate for each other. Good to see they became friends and are living together.” I put down the photograph of the girls’ house on the table, facing up. “Even better, they are helping each other raise the kids.” I slapped down the picture of Serena, Nadia, and all seven kids playing out front on the table. “Jesus Christ, can you imagine having to go from not working, to supporting seven kids combined?”

Deon’s and Luke’s eyes were wide, and their breathing had deepened, but still they weren’t saying anything.

“Oh, but don’t worry about that either. Because Nadia and Serena were getting along so well, they got a job together.” I laid down three pictures of the girls in next to nothing, standing on a corner, and leaning into car windows.

Deon’s hands fisted on top of the tables, and the chains tightened when he tried to pull them into his lap to hide them.

“But, as we all know, your whores had meth habits. And from what their new supplier is telling me, they’re spending a lot on it. When they’re not f**king other guys to get it, that is. So, of course, this has been happening quite a bit.” I smacked down a picture of both girls unconscious on the couch of their home, with glass pipes on the table. “Which obviously means this happened.” I laid down a series of pictures of child protective services taking the children from the home, and both Nadia and Serena being arrested. I clicked my tongue and huffed a laugh. “Ah, man, good times.”

“I’ll kill you,” Luke growled.

“What is it you want?” Deon asked.

“Oh, no, no. I’m not done. So before the children were taken so they could have a chance at a normal life, and before your women were arrested so we could take some more of the filth off the streets, and before my girl escaped . . . yours talked. And they talked a lot. Even if Rachel hadn’t escaped, your girls gave up the rest.” I grabbed the second-to-last picture and my expression darkened when I looked back up at the guys sitting across the table from me. “But not without a little persuasion first.” Setting down the picture, I waited for the reaction I knew was coming.

Both men tried to lunge over the table, but being shackled to the ground and table didn’t let them get far. I turned and held up a hand to the guards who had begun making their way over to us, and with reluctant nods, they backed off. I’d gotten the pictures of the women and the kids, while sitting in my car, across the street from wherever they were at the time. The ones of them doing drugs and sexual favors to get more drugs: Sunny and his crew had helped out with those. How he got RJ to get back with Serena for that time, I didn’t know, and didn’t give a shit. That last one, though; Mason and I had paid the girls a visit for that.

They remembered us and knew we were the reason their men were in prison. We’d cuffed them to chairs and had shown them some of the pictures I was showing Deon and Luke now, in order to get them to stop screaming that they would tell the boys that we’d threatened them. When asked where they were keeping Rachel, both immediately shut up.

The picture Deon and Luke were looking at was of two of my guns pointed at their heads as they cried and kept rambling about “the house,” how “she’s at the house.” Neither of the girls had been hurt that night, we’d gone there to scare them, and that’s exactly what we’d done. But when Mason and I broke into the house where we’d lived with Juarez and his crew two days later . . . we’d come up empty. By that time, we’d already anonymously called child protective services and given copies of some of the pictures as evidence, and the women had already been arrested.

And because of our last visit to them, visiting them in jail wasn’t exactly an option right now.

I focused back on Luke and Deon. Both had their eyes narrowed into slits and glued to me, both were breathing so hard their nostrils were flaring, and both had gone back to not speaking.

“So you see”—I said darkly and leaned close—“you played this game with me, took what’s mine, and tried to ruin my life. I can’t be positive, but I’m pretty sure I just won. And now I’ve started my own game . . . now I’ve taken what’s yours. Only difference between your game and mine is, you’ll never get yours back.”

Luke growled, and I smiled.

I began gathering all the pictures together and put them in the file. Just as I started to stand from the bench, I waved the last picture in the air, facing away from them. “Oh, I must have missed this one. Did you want to see the picture where their new suppliers are f**king them while someone else shoots meth in their arms for them? No? No, didn’t think so. Have a good life in prison, gentlemen.”

Deceiving people was natural . . . it had been my job for so long that lying to protect myself, or those I loved, was as easy as breathing. I’d promised Rachel that there would be no more lies, forgiving or not. When it came to her, there hadn’t been, and there wouldn’t be when she came back. But all bets were off until I found her. I would deceive anyone, lie about everything, and do anything to get her back.

The wicked grin I’d been forcing myself to wear to continue taunting them fell as soon as I turned and began walking from the room. I thanked the guards gruffly as they let me out of the secured doors.

As soon as I was in my truck, I called Mason and told him I was on my way to his apartment.