“I can force you,” he said, giving me a pointed look, “but I will go the more pleasant route first and shed a light on why it would behoove you to assist me.”
I guessed King meant that he still had leverage over me. He could revoke my father’s protection. He could put my head in one of those jars and leave me to rot.
He continued, “What if I told you that the man who killed your mother was a member of a very exclusive club? What if the reason he did not go to prison was because he has friends—fellow club members—in powerful places who look out for him, just like they look out for all the members.”
Now he had my attention. “Like some sort of crime country club?”
“In a way. They are called Ten Club. It is a group that protects people like Victor Escorcia who enjoy running over young women for kicks. That is his name—the man who killed your mother—is it not?”
Victor Escorcia. I couldn’t count the number of times I’d Googled him, fantasizing about showing up at his house in Miami with a cleaver. While I grew up without a mother, and with a dad with a broken heart, Victor Escorcia was sipping martinis on his yacht. If I lived a million years, I would never forget that fucking name.
“Yes. That’s him.” I nodded, trying to digest what King was telling me. Was he saying the truth about Ten Club and my mother’s killer, or was he using information he’d dug up in my head to manipulate me?
“Victor had a blood alcohol level four times the legal limit,” King said. “I did not dig that up from your head, Miss Arnold.”
“Anyone could know that. It was in the court records.”
“Correct. But who else knows that after the court dropped the murder charges, Victor came to your house one morning, drunk, claiming he wanted to make things right by taking care of you—putting you under his roof, sending you to school, paying your way.”
I covered my mouth. I didn’t know about the “taking care of me part,” but my dad had mentioned once that “the fucker who killed Mom” came to our house completely inebriated.
“Go ahead,” King added, “call your father and ask.”
My mind was spinning. How could all this be true? I mean, what were the odds that this Ten Club helped free the man who killed my mother?
King scoffed dismissively. “This is all new to you, but soon you will learn there are no coincidences.”
That was a lot to unpack. “If what you say is true, that this Ten Club protects bad people, why wouldn’t we want to expose them? Call the FBI or police or something?”
King chuckled and shook his head. “Ten Club is a group of bored, depraved, and extremely wealthy individuals from all over the world. They run major companies and governments. They own everything. Their only interest is in maintaining power and abusing it. They are untouchable.”
That sounded bad. Really bad.
“No, Jeni. It is far worse than bad, because these people use their influence to sate their dark, morose hobbies—torture, slaves, rape, mutilation, murder. And when they tire of that, they turn to the time-honored sport of the acquisition of rare objects. He who has the most toys wins. And I am not referring to train sets.”
I frowned. “You mean—”
“People like you, and objects like the ones here in my warehouse.” His free hand swept over the room. “Some search out immortality, some seek items that give them powers, and others collect people.”
“Then why do you own all this shit? How do you know so much about them?”
He cocked a dark brow, giving me the answer I didn’t want to hear.
No. Please tell me you’re joking. Because I could only think of one answer: He was a member too.
He shook his head slowly. “Not a member, Jeni. The founder. The leader—or so I used to be. Now I will be their demise—with your help, of course.”
My blood turned ice cold, and I stepped back. This was a turn I never saw coming. “Why? Why would you form something so fucked up?”
“Perhaps someday, when I have a few thousand years to explain, I will. In the meantime, you’ll have to take my word for it; I believed I was doing the world a favor.”
“How the hell would that be considered a favor?”
“Evil exists everywhere. It always has and always will. If given the choice, Jeni, knowing you could never rid the world of such dangers, would you rather be at the helm—controlling them, sabotaging them, reining them in—or would you prefer to be standing right where you are? A victim. A life altered forever. No justice for your mother.”
“I understand your point, but I don’t think it’s possible to surround yourself with those kinds of people and not come out unscathed.”