Rage

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Gwen

I spend the next ten minutes trying not to cry. I don’t even know why the tears keep rolling down my cheeks. I’m not scared anymore. I’m more angry than anything. Angry with Gia for making me pick her up in the middle of the night. Angry with Emmett for giving me this car and definitely angry with myself for being so na?ve and stupid.

The headlights of an approaching vehicle have me looking up into the road. This must be the female police officer. The vehicle slows down and pulls up behind us. I watch as the door opens and a large figure heads toward us.

It doesn’t take me but a moment to realize that this person is not another cop. It’s the one individual I wouldn’t have expected to see tonight… or ever again, for that matter.

Emmett Carter. My husband.

He walks past the cop without glancing at him, his eyes trained on me the entire time until the moment he stops in front of my feet. His gaze moves up and down my body as if to scan every inch of me. I don’t want to imagine what he sees right now; how pitiful I must look to him.

“Mr. Carter.” The officer clears his throat and stands a little straighter beside us. “I called—” That’s all he gets out before Emmett twist his body and slams his fist against the cop’s jaw, making his head snap to the side. His eyes roll back, and his body goes down.

My gasp is masked by the thump of him hitting the ground at full force. His head bounces off the pavement like a basketball, making me cringe and yelp out in pain for him.

“Why did you tell him your name was Baker?” That’s the first thing out of the mouth of the man who married me two years ago, just to dump me the same day.

“What else was I supposed to tell him?” I’m surprised by how even my voice is at this point.

“Your real last name.”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted anyone to know. I figured you might be ashamed.” I actually have no idea if he would be. I have no idea what he wants since he’s never shared a fucking thing with me. Even on our wedding day we barley exchanged any words.

He ignores my comment completely and counters with another question instead. “What the fuck are you wearing? Your top is basically see-through. I can see your tits, and looking at the length of your shorts, I bet I can see your ass if you stand up.”

My mouth pops open, and I suck in a sharp breath, feeling like I just got slapped. How dare he criticize my outfit. As if he has any right?

“What do you care?” He’s never cared about me before. “You don’t get to tell me what to do! If I want to walk around naked, I fucking will!” Two years ago, I would have never spoken to him like this. My parents taught me better. From a young age, they trained me to be a perfect wife to a man like Emmett. Taught me everything there was to know about pleasing and obeying a powerful man. Talking back was definitely not on that list.

I’m not that girl anymore. Two years of hating him, of being angry and hurt, are all coming to fruition at this very moment.

The cop groans again, but I can’t make myself glance over. It’s like Emmett is holding me under some kind of spell. I can’t look away from his scowling face. His strong, clean-shaven jaw is twitching like he is trying not to grind his teeth too hard. And his brows are pinched together just as tightly as his lips are pressed shut. But what really draws me in are the stormy blue eyes now holding me hostage.

I should probably apologize, for both making him come out here tonight and the way I just spoke to him. Yet, I force my own lips shut and swallow back the apology sitting on my tongue. I don’t owe him anything.

He moves so quickly that I don’t have the time to even try to get away before his hands grab my upper arms, and he pulls me from the car. With only one flip-flop and my hands still cuffed behind my back, I’m so unsteady on my legs that I have no choice but to fall against his firm chest.

Turning my head away, I try to twist my body away from him, which only makes him dig his fingers deeper into my arms. I wince in pain, jerking from his touch. He suddenly lets go, and for a second, I think I’m going to fall back against the car. Emmett grabs me once more. This time, around my hip. Then he lifts me up and throws me over his shoulder so roughly it knocks the wind out of me.

“Wait!” I croak after I catch my breath. “My friend. I need to pick her up.”

“I already sent someone to get Gia,” Emmett says casually while carrying me back to his car.

“What? How do you know my friend’s name… or where she is?”

“Forget about her; you have yourself to worry about now.” His voice is low and gravelly, promising pain and whatever else he has planned for tonight.

His threat hangs heavy in the air as he lowers me to my feet, just to shove me into the back of another car. I almost hit my forehead on the door, but Emmett pulls me back just in time, sitting me up before sliding in next to me.

Someone else is sitting in the driver’s seat. Like Emmett, he is wearing a dark suit, his hair is cut neat, and his shoulders are broad and muscular.

“Sir?” he asks.

“Home,” Emmett growls out the order.

The driver pulls onto the highway, and I awkwardly try to sit sideways with my hands still tied together behind my back. I turn away from Emmett, looking out the window into the black night.

“Lean back,” Emmett orders, grabbing my shoulder. If it wasn’t for his hand pulling me toward him, I wouldn’t think I even heard him right.

“What are you…?” The words get lodged in my throat when the side of my head meets his warm thigh. Suddenly, my mouth goes dry. What the hell is he doing? His fingers wrap firmly around my throat, not tight enough to restrict my breathing but tight enough to have me worried.

I’m facing him now, trying to look anywhere besides his crotch, which is only a few inches away. Squeezing my eyes shut, I concentrate on calming my breathing and not passing out. Closing them helps only a little because I can still feel his hands on me. Still smell his spicy cologne and hear his heavy breathing.

Fuck, he must be angry. Who knows what I interrupted him doing tonight? My thoughts are running rampant with scenarios of how his night started and how mine is going to end.

My mind comes up with many outcomes… and none of them are good.