Rage

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Blake

G in wakes me up three nights in a row with her nightmares. Her screams and sobs wreak havoc on my heart, batter my soul, and I’ll take each one of her tears from Carl Jones III’s flesh. Eventually.

I hold Gin to my chest, her legs tangled with mine, as her breathing evens out and she falls to sleep again.

Greyson Hyde always keeps his word. Carl’s been on ice, waiting in a creatively constructed version of hell on earth while I tend to my wife this week. My best torturer has visited him daily just to keep things interesting, but I’ve made it quite clear that he’s to be kept alive.

The media is all over the case of the missing millionaire heir, Carl Jones III, with pleas from his grieving parents saying they’ll pay any ransom amount. Except this is one situation that won’t be fixed with money—not this time. Carl’s not going to get a slap on the wrist and pay a fine instead of going to prison because jail time would destroy his promising future.

He has no future.

He’s one less predator in the world now.

The Joneses may suffer at the loss of their son, but they deserve it. It’s punishment for raising such a monster. If I’m feeling merciful, I might send them a gift, a piece of their beloved child, so that they can have closure once he’s dead.

That’s a big if . Mercy’s not a state of mind that comes easily or often to me these days.

Right now, I’m filled with rage. Perhaps I should slip away tonight and release my anger on Carl, and end this. But this isn’t about me, it’s about my sweet wife. This needs to end in a way that leads to her healing, to her regaining a sense of empowerment and strength. She must get her vengeance.

It’s another couple of weeks before Ginevra’s healed enough to walk on her scarred feet. While the physical damage quickly heals, I know her mind and soul continue to suffer. Which means today is the day I’ve been waiting for. Today, this ends.

“Magpie,” I call, finding her in the kitchen, her favorite room in the house.

She glances up from the mixing bowl, a dusting of flour smeared across her cheek. Adorable. “Yeah?”

“It’s time.”

“Time for what?”

“Time that I give you a choice about what to do with Carl.” I lean against the kitchen island, my gaze pinned on her, so I don’t miss her most subtle reactions. She flinches slightly at his name.

“What can be done with him?” Her gorgeous brown eyes widen. “He’s not still alive, is he?”

I nod. “I’ve been keeping him alive for you, in case you wanted to kill him yourself, or help me, or watch. Whatever your heart desires, it will be done. What do you want, baby girl?”

She abandons her baking, going to wash her hands in the kitchen sink. Her silence tells me she’s thinking, considering her options before she makes a decision.

“I don’t want him dead.” She turns to face me. “I want him unable to hurt anyone again. Death is not justice, it’s too final. I want him to suffer for the rest of his life, just like those he’s hurt.”

A wicked smile curves my lips. I wrap my arms around her and nuzzle her neck. “Then that is what you shall have, my love. Come. Let’s do this now.”