The Punishment: The Downing Family Book 3

by Wild, Cassie

  “Last night. At the party.” I twisted my fingers together and stared at his averted face, searching for…something. He was closed in, so closed in, I couldn’t even tell if he was angry.

  How could he not be angry?

  He looked at me then. “Did Marcos see you? Does he know you were listening?”

  “No.”

  “You’re certain?” Brooks closed the distance between us and reached up, cupping my face in his hands.

  “I’m positive.” I shuddered, remembering my fear that Marcos just might see me, and how I’d wondered what he’d do. “I was scared to death he would see me, but he didn’t. It wasn’t too long after that you showed up. I should have told you then, but I was…”

  He kissed me, silencing whatever else I might have said. “You told me now. And you weren’t caught. That’s all that matters.”

  He rubbed his finger across my lower lip before lowering his hands. As he began to pace the room, I sank down into the armchair and waited.

  “This changes things,” Brooks said. “For my family, it will change a lot of things. Whether Marcos acted with his father’s knowledge or not, my father won’t just let this go.”

  Something sad moved inside me, and I looked away to keep it from showing on my face. I wasn’t fast enough.

  “What is it?” Brooks asked softly, coming over to crouch in front of me.

  I looked back at him. “I’m glad,” I said, forcing a smile. “I am. I’m glad your family won’t just turn their back on this. But…” Blowing out a breath, I summoned up a faint smile for him. “I still don’t understand a world where people can turn a blind eye or just not care about some of the things I’ve seen happen since all of this started.”

  “I didn’t turn a blind eye,” he said, voice hard.

  I reached up and stroked my fingers through his hair. “Not when it came to me, no. But if it had happened to somebody else, would you have gone to so much trouble? Hell, Sean is pissed at you for helping me.”

  “He’s pissed because he’s scared. He worries for Isabel.”

  “I get that, but…” I shook my head, slid from the chair. I needed distance. It was hard to think straight when that dark blue gaze watched me so intently.

  “There are other women there. Peaches is happy because she only has to dance for another couple of years, then her so-called debt is cleared.” I looked out the window at the cloudy sky. At some point, a dense, heavy tropical rain had started to fall, and I watched the drops roll down the window. “I don’t think half of them are there because they want to be. And some of them…”

  When I didn’t continue, Brooks came up behind me. I could just barely make out his reflection in the rain-splattered window. “Some of them what?” he prodded.

  “I saw girls who were too young to be in there. Some of them look like they are barely out of puberty, Brooks. They’ve got kids dancing there.” My voice started to shake as I continued, “Marcos had some of the dancers from the club at the party last night. A few of them had worked the parties before, and if one of the guests wanted to have sex with a dancer, they knew they’d have to do it, or Marcos would make them. Has he done that with the younger girls?”

  Brooks turned away for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. “Shit,” he muttered, “I fucking knew it.”

  He stood there, glaring at nothing. Finally, he turned me to face him, eyes locked on my face. “You’re certain you saw underage girls in the club?”

  “Hell.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like I went up to each one and asked them how old they are. But…yeah. There’s no way some of them are over eighteen. Some of them look to be fifteen or sixteen.”

  He blew out a slow, controlled breath as he turned away. He walked over to the seat I’d vacated and sat down, staring at the floor.

  “What are you thinking?”

  He slanted a look at me. “I think I was right about this mess the whole time. I told my father that it was a mistake to get involved with the Castellanos, but…” He shook his head. “He was convinced he knew what he was doing.”

  “Do you really think he’ll care?” I asked skeptically.

  He looked at me, a cold smile on his face. “Oh, he’ll care. Trust me.” He lounged back in the chair, eyes narrowing slightly. “I’ll be honest. I’m surprised Duardo and Basilio would allow it. Some of the…families I’ve worked with have no problem involving kids, but Basilio is more…well, he’s old school. Kids aren’t to be touched.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t know,” I speculated. “I only saw younger girls a couple of times, but Duardo was never there when it happened, and Basilio didn’t come by the club at all the first time I was there.”

  “We’re going to stop this,” Brooks said softly.

  “How?”

  “I’m still working on that.” He pushed a hand through his hair, tousling it even more. “We’ll need to talk to Sean and Isabel. Get them to help us.”

  Twenty-Two

  Brooks

  Daria shook her head, a worried look on her face. “Sean is more interested in not rocking the boat with his new in-laws. And Isabel doesn’t even believe me.” A sad look flickered across her pretty face, and she looked away.

  I hated it when she did that, like she had to hide how she felt from me.

  “What is it?”

  She lifted one shoulder in a frustrated shrug. “I just…” She paused, like she was searching for the words. “I’m glad my best friend isn’t tangled up in some of the shit I’ve seen. Isabel doesn’t seem to know much about what her family is involved in, though she’s starting to open her eyes. But at the same time…” She shook her head. “I don’t think she entirely believes me. There were some things I didn’t even try to tell her because I didn’t think she’d get it. How can we convince her of the truth? She’ll never help us if she doesn’t believe what we’re telling her.”

  “We’ll convince Isabel,” I assured Daria. “My brother isn’t blind to the things the Castellanos are involved in. Once Sean sees things my way, he won’t keep holding back on Isabel.”

  She still looked doubtful. “She thinks the idea that anybody in her family was involved in you getting hurt is ridiculous.”

  I wasn’t concerned.

  Pulling out my phone, I punched in a number. “I’m going to make arrangements for us to get to New York. We need to talk to Sean and Isabel and figure out how to straighten this mess out.”

  Daria nodded, but I knew she was still uneasy.

  That was fine. She’d been given more than enough reason to worry about quite a few things, but that was all over now. We were going to fix this.

  * * *

  We made it to New York that evening, thanks to a private plane. Money made everything easier, a fact of which I was well aware.

  A car was waiting for us at the airport, and once we were inside and headed to the city, I took Daria’s hand.

  “I’ve already let Sean know we were coming over.”

  She stared out into the heavy traffic and nodded silently.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked softly.

  She took a deep, shuddering breath before looking at me. A sad smile curved her lips, and she shrugged. “I’m just wondering if Isabel is still mad at me.”

  “I heard you two had a fight. Was it about her family?” I asked, smoothing her hair back from her face.

  “It was, because I told her I thought her family had something to do with your shooting,” she said quietly. She linked her hands together in her lap and tucked them between her knees.

  Every line of her body conveyed a taut nervousness. She was drawn so tight, it was like the wrong word or move would cause her to shatter. She’d already been through so much. I wanted this over for her.

  “Isabel thinks I should just get over what happened and put it behind me.” She laughed softly and slumped back in the seat, resting her head on the padded cushion behind her. “Her brother threatens to have me held down and raped if I refuse to either d
ance or whore for him. Her other brother belted me. Her father uses the clubs as a front for prostitution and running drugs. But she can’t believe they’d do something so awful as shoot you.”

  “You said it yourself. Isabel is only now becoming aware of what her family is capable of. Give her time.” I slid closer to her and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. “It will all work out, Daria. Just trust me.”

  She snuggled into me and sighed. “I’m trying to.”

  * * *

  Isabel opened a bottle of wine as soon as we arrived. She’d already drained one glass and was well on her way to emptying her second.

  Judging by the look in her eyes, I wouldn’t be surprised if she polished off that bottle and opened another.

  She looked…devastated.

  Once I’d told Sean what Daria had overheard, he’d shut down, anger shining bright in his eyes while a muscle ticked in his jaw. He hadn’t spoken for a long, long time, and when he finally looked back at Daria, it was without the wall he’d always erected between them.

  “You’re certain about what you heard?” Sean had asked, although there wasn’t any real doubt in his voice. It was like he just needed her clarification.

  Once she nodded, he directed his attention to me. I rubbed my shoulder. Perhaps it was the discussion that had renewed the pain, perhaps the rough lovemaking with Daria. Perhaps it was all of it, a reminder that I was still a wounded man.

  Isabel had tried to argue, insisting that Daria must have heard wrong, that Marcos couldn’t do something like that.

  It was Sean who caught her attention. He took her hand and started to talk.

  “Daria isn’t the first or only woman who’s been forced to work for your brothers to pay off a debt,” Sean said. As he continued to tell her things he’d seen or learned, Isabel paled more and more.

  Halfway through, she’d gotten up to get the bottle of wine that was now down to maybe half a glass.

  She hadn’t spoken a word since Sean had begun his story.

  Twenty-Three

  Daria

  Sean finally lapsed into silence, and we all watched as Isabel lowered her face into her hands and started to cry.

  Uncertainty flickered across Sean’s features, and he held a hand over her shoulder. When he finally did touch her, he looked stiff and uncomfortable, as though the display of raw emotion left him discomfited.

  It was the broken, defeated sound of her sobs that had me rising from my seat and sitting by her side. Sean gave me a look that I could only describe as relief as I wrapped my arm around her shoulders.

  She leaned into me and closed her eyes.

  “It’s going to be alright,” I told her.

  “How?” she whispered, the simple word breaking the tension in the room. “How can anything be alright now? My family…I come from monsters.”

  Both Sean and Brooks flinched at the venom in her voice. I kept my concentration on my friend, although I wasn’t unaware of their reactions. “That doesn’t make you one,” I said quietly.

  Isabel continued to cry, and I rocked her as the storm raged, then passed.

  A heavy silence had settled in the room by the time her tears slowed. She looked around and sniffed, wiping her face with her fingers. “I need a minute,” she said stiffly.

  I caught her hand. “Want me to go with you?”

  “Thanks, but I need to be alone for a few minutes.”

  I nodded, understanding completely.

  As she left the room, I sagged back onto the cushions of the couch, feeling drained.

  “How are you?” Sean asked, his tone oddly formal.

  I tilted my head and studied him, wondering if he was even interested in the answer.

  He looked away after a few seconds, and I realized he was embarrassed. Maybe even ashamed.

  Part of me wanted to be angry with him for how he’d treated me throughout all of this, but I understood one thing—he’d done everything to protect Isabel. Not just physically, but from the truth as well, because he’d realized how it would hurt her.

  I’d done the same thing when I hadn’t been upfront with her about the threats from Duardo, then Marcos’ assault.

  I understood the need to protect those I loved.

  Because of that, it was a little easier to let go of the antipathy I felt toward Sean. “I’ll manage,” I said, my tone nearly as stiff as his had been.

  He nodded and got up to pace.

  He was on his second circuit when Isabel reappeared in the doorway. Her face was pale, save for two flags of color flying high on her cheeks. She didn’t look at him or Brooks. She simply stared at me where I sat, waiting.

  She came over and sank down on the cushions next to me.

  “Do you hate me?” she asked, her voice hitching.

  Without even thinking about it, I opened my arms to her. She all but flung herself at me, clinging tight. “Of course I don’t hate you,” I whispered against her hair. “Why would you ever think that?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, the words thick with tears. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, and I’m sorry for what my brothers and my father have done to you. I’m so sorry, Daria.”

  I closed my eyes. “It’s okay, Iz. It’s okay.”

  “It’s not—”

  “You love your family. I can’t imagine how hard all of this must be for you. It’s okay.”

  She sagged against me, and I held her more tightly.

  I didn’t know how long we sat like that.

  The ache in my heart had both eased and magnified. Isabel believed me, which helped in some ways, but in others, it only hurt more. She’d had to accept some of the ugliest truths one could be handed out when it came to family.

  If there had been a way to protect her from all of this, I would have taken it in a heartbeat.

  But there wasn’t.

  If we wanted Marcos and Duardo stopped, if we wanted Basilio stopped, we had to do something, and whatever that ended up being, we might need Isabel’s help.

  That meant she had to know, had to believe what was going on.

  And I hated it.

  She eased away from me, and I let go, watching as she rose and wandered a few feet away, swiping again at the tear tracks on her face.

  “We can’t let this go on,” she said softly, turning to look first at me, then at Brooks before finally focusing on her husband. “If my family is involved in forcing girls to dance and…” She stopped and shook her head. “If they are doing this, we have to stop them.”

  Sean hesitantly reached out to her. She stared at his hand for a long moment, then met his eyes. “Did you know about the girls? Underage girls?”

  “No,” he said softly, a muscle twitching in his cheek. “I don’t have a lot of lines, but that’s one of them.”

  “Find a few more lines,” Isabel advised. Then she looked directly into my eyes. “What do you need from me?”

  * * *

  I was exhausted when we left Sean and Isabel’s.

  A car was waiting out front, and I sank into the plush, padded leather with a sigh of relief. Brooks was next to me a moment later, and he wrapped his arm around me. I sank into the hard lines of his body with a sigh that was born of relief and need. He turned his head and brushed his lips against my forehead.

  The car’s powerful engine roared to life, and I closed my eyes, thinking that maybe I’d just rest my eyes for a few minutes as we headed to the hotel.

  An untold time later, I opened my eyes and looked out the window to an unfamiliar city.

  I stared blankly at the skyline for several moments before my brain finally kicked in, and I straightened, looking outside before turning my attention to Brooks. “Where are we?” I asked.

  “Philadelphia.” He brushed my hair back from my face. “I’m tired of hotels. I wanted to sleep in my bed…with you next to me.”

  My face flushed at the intensity of his words. Licking my lips, I searched for the right words before I finally managed t
o say weakly, “What about my clothes? I don’t even have any toiletries.”

  “I’ve already taken care of that,” he said softly.

  My heart fluttered at the look in his eyes, and as he leaned in to kiss me, I had to fight the urge not to melt against him. “Well.” I licked my lips as he pulled back, tasting him on my mouth. “I guess there’s no reason to argue then, is there?”

  A wolfish light came into his eyes. “Well, you can argue if you want to. I wouldn’t mind giving you a little bit of discipline once we’re in the penthouse.”

  My breath hitched. “Discipline?”

  “Hmm.” He put his hand on my thigh and leaned back into the seat, slouching down comfortably. “I’ve wanted to get you to my place almost from the first second I laid eyes on you.”

  His hand crept higher.

  “And why is that?” Without conscious thought, I spread my legs for him.

  The driver of the limo didn’t seem to notice anything unusual. Brooks hit a button in the armrest, and a window rose between the driver and the back seat, leaving us essentially alone. My breath came harder and faster as Brooks slid his hand under the hem of my skirt, then inched it higher.

  “I just want to show you around. Give you a personal tour, if you like.” He slanted a look at me. “I’ve got any number of interesting…objects.”

  I had no doubt about what kind of objects he might be referring to, and I swallowed back a whimper as he touched me through my panties.

  I was already wet as his fingers sent the satin sliding back and forth over me. One tug and he could slip his fingers inside those panties and touch me with nothing separating us.

  As if I dreamed it into reality, he tugged on the elastic leg band, then he was there—sinking one finger into the liquid heat of my pussy.

  “Do you think you’ll be too tired for a tour, Daria?” he asked, pushing inside me, hard and fast.

  Although he had only used one finger, he felt so large inside me I clamped my legs shut around the intimate intrusion, staring at the back of the driver’s head through the glass.