Chapter Fifteen
Tamsyn
This was stupid.
Reading was stupid. Writing was stupid.
Her brain was the stupidest thing of all.
Utterly frustrated, Tamsyn threw the pencil down, watching it bounce off the exercise book in an impressive arc. It clattered to the floor, joining the three other writing utensils she’d disposed of in the last hour. She picked up the book, intending to hurl that next, but a reprimanding voice chimed up before it could flutter in the same direction as the pencil.
“Don’t do it, Tamsyn.”
Scowling, she raised her sulky gaze to Mistress Violet’s reproving eyes. “Why not?”
“Because I hate repeating myself, and this is a repetitive argument.” Unsmiling, Violet arched her eyebrow. “Merrick asked you to complete the section, did he not?”
He had, but he wasn’t here, was he? He was off somewhere with the other Masters, doing God knew what, while she was left here with her brains leaking from her ears and her hormones completely out of whack.
March had rolled into April faster than she expected. Being with Merrick warped her sense of time, the days tumbling into each other just as fast as she continued to fall deeper in love with him. Unfortunately, that meant The Rejuvenation was back.
She was cranky, cramping, and there was a headache brewing behind her eyes.
Testing the Mistress’ reaction, Tamsyn prepared to fling the book again.
“Make sure you’re prepared for the consequences,” was all Violet said in a nonchalantly casual tone. “Merrick gave me permission to punish you however I see fit if you decided to be a brat. Spanking a little girl will be an interesting change to caning a man’s balls.”
Eyes popping wide, Tamsyn’s hand hovered in midair. “I’m not a little girl.”
“No, you’re a grown woman acting like one.”
Well, ouch. The book slapped back down on the table. “Am not.”
Laughing, the Mistress swept her hand toward the pens and pencils on the floor. “Small children have tantrums, Tamsyn, and you’ve been throwing one since Merrick walked out the door. Are you finding the writing exercises difficult or just feeling anxious being apart from him?”
“Who says it’s either?”
“Something else then. Can I help?”
No. She needed a couple of those little pills Merrick gave her when she felt rough, and a nap for the rest of the afternoon with Foxy the owl. He wasn’t Merrick but he was an okay substitute, she supposed.
Shaking her head, she pushed the table away from the armchair and stood. Her lessons took place in the living room now, part of Merrick’s determination to get her out of the bedroom because she was too comfortable in there.
It was true; that room was her safe space now after weeks of bedrest and… memories.
“Can I go to the bathroom, Mistress?”
Violet sighed. “You don’t need permission to pee, Tamsyn. You know,” she said when Tamsyn brushed past her, “if there’s something upsetting you that can’t be shared with Merrick, I’m here. As your friend if that’s all you need.”
“I…” Why did that make her want to cry? “Thanks.”
She hurried away, scurrying toward the bathroom. It was just the hormones her stupid body was producing, that was all—apparently enough of them that stupid was the only word she was capable of thinking of to describe everything.
Her pissy mood continued as she removed the tampon, peed, and with not a small amount of distaste, inserted a fresh one so she didn’t turn the cabin into a location setting for a horror movie. As she washed her hands, she heard a cell phone ring.
Maybe it was Merrick calling to let them know he was on his way home.
Excitedly, Tamsyn dried her hands and yanked open the door, dashing along the hallway. She was only a few steps from the living room when Violet’s tone caught her attention, low and wary.
“No, Grit, he’s not here. I thought he was with you.” A short pause. “I’ve been here with Tamsyn for a couple hours now.” Another pause. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Merrick wouldn’t like it either.” A quiver of something uneasy spiked her voice as she lowered it further. “Yes, I can keep her locked down here. Did he ask for her specifically?”
Tamsyn’s heart stuttered and stalled.
“That’s bad, Grit. How the hell did he find her after so long?”
Jedidiah . He was the only man she knew who could make a woman’s voice carry that pitch—even women who had no personal connection with him feared him once they understood what he was, and Tamsyn had no doubts Merrick had told his friends how dangerous her father was; it was irresponsible not to when she was in their midst.
She’d brought this to their doorstep.
Brought him here.
Everything she’d been afraid of for nearly three months was happening. Naively, she’d shoved down the fear, brushed it aside, buried it, believing the fates couldn’t be cruel enough to tear her away from her new life.
How wrong could she be?
There was no other option now but running. She of all people knew the resources her father commanded, the men and weapons at his disposal, and even then, she didn’t know the full extent of his arsenal.
If she stayed, people would die. People she cared about, her new friends, her Merrick.
Strangers who just came here to be themselves.
If she ran, the only one to die would be her.
How many TV shows had she watched over the course of her stay here where sacrifice was the only way? Far too many. Sometimes it worked out for the best, sometimes… not. She wasn’t trying to be a hero or save the day; she just didn’t want anyone to die on her behalf.
Retreating, Tamsyn darted into the bedroom. There wasn’t much time to think, let alone act. Too many things she needed to do and couldn’t. Violet wouldn’t be on the phone forever and once the call ended, her whole attention would be on keeping Tamsyn in the cabin.
She glanced down at herself. Merrick’s black hoodie with the Denver Broncos’ logo on the back drowned her, but it smelled like him. She’d started wearing a thermal undershirt through the day because the cold always seemed to find a way into her bones. She stripped off the sling—her wrist was stronger than it had been but still weak; she’d just have to deal with it.
Her black jeggings were comfortable, but too thin to keep her warm if she managed to evade capture into the night. Still, a miracle of that magnitude probably didn’t exist in her world. Not when the biggest miracle of all was Merrick.
Tears began to clog her throat.
The only suitable footwear she found in the closet was a pair of sneakers. Shoving her feet in them, she bent to tie the laces and felt wetness around her eyes.
No time .
Swiping at her cheeks, she headed for the door. The notepad on the table beside the bed caught her attention. It was her practice pad, the one she used on a night when she couldn’t sleep and tried to improve her handwriting instead.
Not that she’d made much improvement.
Every second she wasn’t running gave Jedidiah longer to hurt innocent people.
She just couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. Heart, mind, and soul wouldn’t let her. She wished her pathetic penmanship matched the eloquence in her head, that she could put everything she wanted to say down on paper.
Instead, her fingers gripped the pen too hard and her hand refused to stop shaking.
Finally, she made her escape, sneaking out of the room for the last time. It broke her heart knowing she wouldn’t be coming back, that she’d never wake with Merrick’s arm around her waist or his voice rumbling in her ear again.
She left her heart on her pillow alongside the note with eight simple little words.
I did it for you.
I love you.
*
Merrick
The morning started off well.
Coffee, donuts, a content sub left sleeping in his bed.
A bright, sunny April morning to lift the gloom and chill of the past few weeks where clouds and shifting temperatures were enough to leave his bones permanently set in winter.
The meeting with Eli and Evander was last minute, which meant he’d had to beg a favor from Violet—one she’d granted without argument. He’d given her Tamsyn’s exercise books for reading and writing, with the request she complete one section of each.
Hopefully it would keep her out of trouble; her attitude the last few days told him she was approaching her period. What did she call it? The rejuvenation . Didn’t it just figure that those community assholes would find a way to turn a natural occurrence into another mindfuck?
By his estimation, there was another hour left until the meeting wrapped up. It was hell being an idea guy but he had a knack for it, and Elias was adept at utilizing knacks. So far, they’d discussed a range of walkway options but the most viable one was Merrick’s suggestion of interchangeable panels.
Permanently roofed, the proposed structure could be left open, shielded with mosquito netting, or fitted with solid panels during the worst of the winter months. The groundskeeping staff would need training to learn how to correctly swap out the walls, and there was some debate as to how to keep the walkways warm.
When Merrick’s cell buzzed with a message, he ignored it. Mack and Liam had come up with the bright idea for a Master’s messenger group, citing it as another way to get that familial feeling within the team, with the added benefit of keeping nosy, unruly subs from eavesdropping. All damn morning they’d been throwing around suggestions for a bachelor party.
Not that he didn’t appreciate the gesture but honestly?
He just wanted to marry his girl without the social traditions and fuss.
“Solar panels won’t work if they’re covered in snow,” Merrick pointed out. “A long period of overcast or severe weather and they’d be useless. Hooking them up to batteries to store energy could work, but I’d advise doing some calculations. Heating the entire stretch—”
His cell began to ring, vibrating manically on the table. The screen lit up with Grit’s name, just as Eli’s phone began to chime, followed by Evander’s.
What the hell?
Exchanging a concerned glance with his bosses, Merrick answered as he rose from the table and paced away. He heard them take their own calls as he asked, “Problem?”
“Someone called the main desk fifteen minutes ago, requesting to be put through to Tamsyn Drake.”
Blood running cold, Merrick clenched his teeth. “Did he leave a name?”
“Not a he. Jeanette says it was a woman. As per club rules, she refused to confirm or deny whether anyone by that name was here; the woman hung up.” Grit’s tone was flat and serious. “Five minutes later, a man called, demanding to be put through to Tamsyn. Even gave a physical description. He claimed there was a family emergency and he needed to speak with her urgently. Got real nasty with Jeanette, shook her up with threats.”
“Did she confirm?”
“She says she didn’t, not with words, but he intimidated her enough her tone might have.”
“They know she’s here.”
“Yeah. We’ve picked up movement around the perimeter, through the forest and on the road at the end of the drive. Archie’s tracing the calls as best she can, but I’m betting if she locates the phones, they’re going to be right here on our doorstep. Intimidation seems to be Drake’s favored tactic; he wants us to react.”
He needed to get to Tamsyn and make sure she was safe.
“Violet’s locking Tamsyn down in the cabin. Jasper’s assigned two members of Alpha team to sit on them. Mack’s speaking with Elias about implementing a shelter in place protocol.” Fingers clacked manically on a keyboard. “Shit is going down today, my friend. The cameras have picked up at least a dozen armed dickheads in camo gear, and they’ve blocked the drive with SUVs.”
“No one in or out,” Merrick murmured, trying to think instead of reacting. “Drake wants a showdown. A show of force. He thinks if he holds us hostage, we’ll just hand Tamsyn over without a qualm.”
Grit chuckled. “Well, we are just a bunch of kinksters running around in assless chaps and nipple clamps, right? Jackass doesn’t know his daughter found safety in the one place where intimidation doesn’t work.”
“You’re sure she’s safe?”
“I spoke to Violet myself. Apparently Tamsyn had a tantrum over some exercises and shut herself in the bathroom. Vi was going to check all the windows and lock the doors. Brett and Tank will be there any minute.”
Nodding to himself, Merrick took a calming breath. Violet could be a tigress when threatened; between her and the two mercs, Tamsyn would be out of harm’s way until this was over. “All right. So, what’s the plan?”
“Sit tight and let us do our jobs. The rest of Alpha team is moving into position in the woods. They’ve got the green light, maximum force. Once we have Jedidiah’s presence confirmed, Beta team is going to move in on the underground compound in the mountains. It appears he’s utilized the majority of his security force to surround us, so the rescue mission should be relatively bloodless.”
Good. The less trauma for those poor souls, the better. After what they’d already suffered through, they didn’t need a shower of bullets through the haze of smoke bombs to add to their PTSD.
He hoped they stayed strong. They were almost free of their hell.
“Tabitha?” Merrick queried, praying he wasn’t touching a sore spot.
“Suited and booted, doing what she does best.” Pride filled Grit’s voice without a trace of fear for his woman throwing herself headlong into danger. “She’s been dying to get her hands dirty with these fuckers for weeks. They’ll be dead before they see her coming.”
“Spoken like a man in love.”
“I love her exactly the way she is, even though I hate the way she was made. Truth is, if she’d been raised differently, if she’d been loved and given a normal childhood, a normal life, I still would’ve found her. Someway, somehow, she’d still be mine. I just roll with the punches and love her regardless.”
That was true commitment. A soulmate connection.
It was the way Merrick felt about Tamsyn.
“She’s a lucky woman, Grit.”
“I’m the lucky one.” Something chimed in the background. “Hold on. Anarchy’s intercepting a call to the main desk, same number as before. Let me patch it in to the office phone. Can you put it on speaker?”
Merrick turned to find Elias and Evander watching him, their own calls finished. He jerked his chin to the phone on Evander’s desk as it began to ring. “Speakerphone.”
Jaw tight, Evander reached out and tapped a button, then another.
“Club Serenity. Amanda-May speaking, how may I help you today?” Anarchy’s voice was high, bubbly. She sounded like an eager receptionist, ready to do someone’s bidding.
“I’d like to speak with the owner. Ledston, is it?”
“Ah, that would be Mr. Ledston or Mr. Mitchell, sir. I’m afraid both are tied up in meetings until later this afternoon. Could I possibly take your name and contact number? Or if you’d prefer to call back later—”
“They’ll want to talk to me now. They have something that belongs to me, and I want it back. I suggest you interrupt their meetings and tell them Jedidiah Drake requires their attention, before I get it myself.”
Nerves stuttered in Archie’s voice, playing on the darkness in Jedidiah’s voice. “Sir, I’m just a receptionist. I don’t have the authority—”
“Then find someone who does.”
“I-I—please hold, Sir.” Canned music filtered over the speakers.
Merrick switched his call with Grit to speakerphone as well. “You’re on speaker, Grit.”
“She’s going to keep him on hold long enough to triangulate his position. Mack’s sent out the shelter in place texts to all club members logged into the system as being here, effective immediately. Merrick, Brett and Tank are in position at your cabin.”
Tension seeped from his shoulders. “Thanks.”
“No problem. All right, Archie’s pinpointed his location; about fifty feet out of camera range on the north side. She’s ready to transfer his call if you want to decide who’s going to deal with the asshole.”
Eli and Evander exchanged glances.
“I’ll do it. Taking her in was my doing. Marrying her is my choice. Seems only right I handle the fallout.” Merrick inhaled deeply, leaning back in his seat and cracking his knuckles. “This needs to end here tonight, with him dead or in handcuffs. If I goad him into making a mistake, maybe it’ll be finished faster.”
“Eli? Van? You good with that?”
Elias’s British accent was stiff. “We have no objection. Let’s get this nightmare over with before it gets out of hand.”
“Okay, then. In three, you’re on, Merrick. One, two…”
“Ledston?” Jedidiah demanded almost immediately.
“No.” Merrick tried imagining what it would be like to have that voice raining down on him day after day, making promises and breaking them, being the last thing he heard before a bunch of entitled assholes murdered him for being a lesser product. “But I’m the guy you want, Drake. Took you long enough to track Tamsyn down—did you get lost out there in the forest?”
“I want my daughter back.”
“That’s a shame. She really doesn’t want to go back, and what she wants is more important than anything you demand. Besides, why would I hand her over to a man who’s so much of a coward, he’s lurking in the trees making nuisance phone calls and terrorizing the staff?”
The line seethed with animosity.
“Why don’t you grow a pair, Drake, and come on down. Talk to me like a man, face to face, instead of hiding behind a phone. You’re in the real world now, not that cozy little hellhole in the mountains.” Merrick added a smirk into his voice, a little bit of smugness, a touch of derision. “You and your rich prick buddies like trading so much, try dealing with someone who won’t bow to your whims so easily. Ten minutes should be enough to drag your sorry ass down to the boundary line.”
Fury shimmered in four bitten off words. “You’ll pay for this.”
“There’s a price we all pay. Oh, and Drake? If you think you can get one of your paid mercs to put a bullet in me, I’d think twice. There’re bigger monsters than you in the woods.” He ended the call without waiting for a reply, then stood. Ten minutes was just long enough for him to make the meeting spot as well. “Shit goes south, you take care of Tamsyn. Need your word on it.”
Eli scowled at him. “Meeting with him face to face wasn’t in the cards.”
“It is now. He’s hiding out of harm’s way, probably hoping we just shove Tamsyn into the waiting arms of his armed goons so they can drag her back up the mountain. This way, he becomes a target every bit as much as me. Only difference is, I’ve got a lot more faith in our team than he does in his—no one trusts a team bought and paid for; there’s always someone willing to pay more for their loyalty.”
“We’ll have him covered,” Grit said absently. “I’m already pulling a sniper back.”
Eli just pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t make me explain to your fiancée why your brains are splattered all over the club grounds, Merrick. Be fucking careful how you handle him.”
“Grit’s got my back,” Merrick said gruffly. “Your word, Eli.”
“We’ll take care of her like she’s our own,” Evander promised. “But it’s a moot point, seeing as you’ll be here anyway. Go, set the fucker up for a fall.”
“He’s done that himself.”
*
Striding along the path toward the residential cabins, Merrick rolled his shoulders. The sun was out, it was a pretty decent April afternoon, and yet there was an eeriness that came with complete and utter silence when the air should’ve been full of bird song. The paths were empty, devoid of the usual hustle and bustle of club patrons walking to and from the play areas or restaurant.
Somehow, he hadn’t pictured bringing Jedidiah to task in the middle of the damn day. He’d imagined a dark, stormy night, clouds rolling over the moon, kicking the ever-lovin’ shit out of the cocksucker under the cover of night.
Still, even sunlight couldn’t mask the itch burning under Merrick’s skin. He was well aware Jedidiah might decide to order one of his paid lackeys to pop him off before he made it to the meeting spot—a sniper could pick him off through the trees if he chose his location well, and Merrick believed Jedidiah’s ego wouldn’t need too much bruising before he ignited.
By rights, he wasn’t a violent man. He lost his temper—he was human after all—but never control over his fists. If someone started an altercation, he would finish it; he rarely instigated one himself.
Jedidiah, however… well, he might just inspire Merrick to tap into the dark side.
Boots crunching on the gravel, he didn’t bother trying to hide his approach. Whatever was going to happen would happen; it was a comfort knowing there was a team out there already working on evening the odds.
That didn’t stop his heart from jolting or his fists from raising when someone stepped out from behind one of the cabins like a fucking ghost. He vaguely recognized the man as one of Grit’s security guys. “Christ, give a man a heart attack, why don’t you?”
“Sorry, sir. Grit asked me to give you this.” The man—Adelson, Adamson?—held out his hand, setting a small earbud on Merrick’s palm. “It’s a two-way. You can hear him, he’ll be able to hear you. He told me to tell you not to turn your back on Drake.”
Yeah, he had no intentions of being that stupid—there’d be a knife between his shoulder blades before he could blink. Men like Jedidiah Drake wouldn’t know honor if it slapped him across the face like a wet fish; they touted it, proclaimed honor and duty, pride in what they did, but all it came down to was posturing.
Monsters in expensive clothing, reigning over a kingdom designed for cruelty.
That was all they were, would ever be.
They would die as monsters.
“Thanks.” Pushing the bud deep into his ear, Merrick nodded. “Got it.”
“Good luck.” Adamson returned the nod, then headed down a different path.
Checking his watch, Merrick cursed and picked up the pace. He waited for Grit’s voice to fill his head, but there was nothing. Honestly, he was grateful for the quiet. Having someone chattering in his ear would only distract him from keeping his wits about him.
He made it to the boundary line where club ground gave way to the forest with thirty seconds to spare. Hands in his pockets, he planted his feet and waited, listening to the sound of footsteps coming closer through the trees.
His first impression of Tamsyn’s father was from thirty feet away. The man was a strutter, he noted with amusement. A fucking peacock flashing feathers that weren’t as exciting and glamorous as he thought.
Tamsyn had been dressed in ragged castoffs when she arrived at Serenity, in the clothes new arrivals to the community had discarded. Ill-fitting, unsuitable for the elements.
Jedidiah wore money. The hiking gear he wore might as well have come straight off some rack in a fancy outdoor pursuits store. The boots alone cost several hundred dollars, and were barely scuffed.
Whoever’d been scouring the mountain and forest for Tamsyn, it hadn’t been her father.
Merrick watched the trees for an ambush. He wasn’t cocky enough to believe he’d spot any of Jedidiah’s backup—they were trained mercenaries, after all—but he did have faith that Grit’s team was superior in every way, shape, and form.
At face value, Jedidiah was an attractive man. There were certainly elements he’d passed down to his daughter, like the color of her hair and the curve of her jaw, but everything else belonged to the woman who’d been in that photograph on the website.
Her father was politician handsome, slick and oily. The kind of slick that made a man want to scrub his hand clean after a handshake. While his hair was mostly gray down the sides, it was still that rich brown in the middle—no bald spot, which was a shame. It seemed like that would rankle his pride.
Cold, dark brown eyes—nothing like Tamsyn’s—gave Merrick the same critical assessment. They showed him the truth of the man standing before him—icy, ruthless, soulless. The eyes of a man who’d done something terrible like sell his soul to the devil, who perpetuated the rape and murder of young girls and women.
Who would have profited from the rape and murder of his own daughter.
Jedidiah’s head cocked. “Merrick Cole.”
His eyebrow lifted. Not once during their brief conversation had he given his name, which meant he wasn’t the only one wearing a comms device.
“You’re an interesting man, Mr. Cole. Secretive, private. I suppose you’ve learned, like we did, that broadcasting personal wealth brings scrutiny. It’s one of the reasons why our forefathers created the community.” Rubbing his thumb over flat lips, Jedidiah stared at him curiously. “Did my daughter tell you all our secrets?”
No beating around the bush, Merrick thought. Good. Holding his tongue, he just stared right back. Not with curiosity, not with any variation of it. All he felt was a growing desire to smash the bastard’s teeth down his throat and let him choke on them.
“Yes, I imagine she did. She always had a streak of rebellion in her that the others didn’t. Her mother was much the same way, trying to stretch the limits, break the chains. Never could wrap her mind around her reality.” Disgust tainted his voice. “Tamsyn is her mother’s double in too many ways. I couldn’t waste her on just anyone. She needs a strong, dominant man.”
“So you sold her to a man who beats, rapes, and chokes the life out of young girls.”
“You don’t understand our ways. Our—”
“I don’t give a fuck about your ways, Drake.”
“No? Oh, you poor fool. Have you fallen for her? Rescued her, taken her under your wing and shown her what the real world looks like?” The mockery in his voice was one thing; the scoff was another. “She isn’t of this world, Cole. She was born and bred in the community, raised with our values and principles, and she will return home to fulfill her duties. If you bring her to me now, there doesn’t have to be bloodshed.”
Merrick rolled his neck, stretching his shoulders. Before he could answer, Grit’s voice finally made an appearance.
“Beta team have breached the rock compound, Merrick. Minimal security and resistance so far. Our intel was correct; Drake brought the majority of his men with him.”
Of course he had. Cowards covered their own ass, and Jedidiah was king in that respect.
“You’re a wealthy man, you understand the benefits of an honest exchange.” Continuing to dig a nice hole for himself, Drake apparently didn’t know when to shut his mouth. “My daughter belongs with us, but for the right trade… let’s say the two point six million dollars in your bank account… I might be persuaded to cancel the current contract with her new husband’s name on it and write a new one with yours in his place. Come home with her, Merrick. Make the community your home.”
Smirking, Merrick lifted a hand from his pocket to rub his jaw. “Yeah, about that. See, while you’ve been playing squirrel with women and resources, trying to track down the one who got away, we’ve been making plays of our own, Drake. Your world doesn’t exist anymore. Your home is gone. The men who’ve spent decades buying and trading young pussy to abuse, who’ve dedicated their lives to training and brainwashing the next generation, are dying as we stand here. Bleeding out all over the stone floor of that neat little cave system you’ve adapted into a refuge.”
Jedidiah’s color faded to gray before erupting into a fiery crimson. “Liar.”
“Personally, I’m hoping the rescue team cuts off a few wrinkled dicks and saggy balls before they put bullets in your friends’ heads.” He shrugged easily, the smirk growing into a smile. “Who knows, maybe some of those women you’ve spent years grooming will have the same spark as Tamsyn. Maybe they’ll be the ones who end the useless fuckers.”
“Enough! One more word and I’ll shut your mouth permanently.”
Merrick glanced down, somehow remaining calm when he saw the red dot hovering steadily over his heart. Well, if the end came, at least it was going to be a clean shot, he thought. Even as he drew breath to speak, Grit came back.
“Our sniper has his in his sights. Keep your nerve, Merrick.”
Lifting his gaze back to Jedidiah’s smug eyes, Merrick flicked his eyebrow up. “That’s a pretty red dot, Jed. The thing is, my guy, he doesn’t need pretty red dots to find his mark and hit it.”
Realization widened those evil eyes as a single shot rang out.
Jedidiah dropped like a stone.
The red dot vanished from Merrick’s chest.
“I’m gonna go out on a limb,” he said slowly, acting as though his knees weren’t about to buckle with relief, “and say you’re not the kind of guy who’d fall on his sword to protect his friends. Get up, you’re pathetic.”
On his knees, Jedidiah carefully lowered his arms from where they protected his head. Glowering at Merrick, he snarled, “The likes of you will never take us down. What we’ve built goes beyond you, beyond all. Decades of planning and execution to create the perfect utopia, and you think you can destroy it?”
From higher up the hill, a man screamed, sharp and swift.
The sound dragged icy fingernails down Merrick’s spine. “It’s already tumbling around you, Drake. Didn’t I warn you there were bigger monsters out here than you? Should’ve listened, should’ve taken your limp dick in hand and run.”
Jedidiah’s head tilted slightly, a slow and insidious smile curving his mouth.
“Merrick,” Grit said tersely in his ear. “We have movement in the woods. Lone female heading north.”
No, no, no. Teeth bared, Merrick saw triumph light in his adversary’s eyes. “You told me she was locked down.”
“Track her down,” Jedidiah ordered, obviously receiving the same data. “Keep her alive. I’ll kill her myself.”
Like hell he would, Merrick vowed silently. Even as Drake surged to his feet, hand whipping behind his back to yank a pistol free and aim it at his chest, Merrick was already in motion. Bellowing in fury, he charged, leading with his head and shoulders.
They collided head on like a semi and an SUV, the older man going down beneath Merrick’s weight. There was a loud crack, a brutal sear of heat gouging through his belly, but it didn’t stop him.
Adrenaline and fear blocking out everything but the threat to Tamsyn’s safety, Merrick reared back, clamping his hand on Jedidiah’s wrist, twisting away the gun before another shot fired, and kept twisting until the bones snapped.
The gun dropped to the ground as Jedidiah screamed, but Merrick wasn’t done. Far from it. Ignoring the blood spreading over the asshole’s clothing, he dug his fingers into the fragile skin of Jedidiah’s neck, pinning him down and cutting off his air as his other hand fisted and smashed into the enemy’s nose.
Weeks of impotent fury, of a desperate desire to find justice for his little owl, bubbled up into a tidal wave of retribution. He pummeled Drake’s ribs and stomach, coating his fist in his own damn blood, until the fucker couldn’t summon the barest scream through the constriction around his throat.
His fist hammered down on fragile facial bones, cracking them, breaking them, turning flesh into a swollen mess of black and red, blood and destruction. He pounded Jedidiah’s face into an unrecognizable portrait, squeezing his throat until the smaller body beneath him bucked and jerked in death throes.
When it was done, when it was finally over, Merrick rolled onto his back and stared up at the bright blue sky. His ears were ringing, masking the irritating voice chirping frantically with nonsense.
There was the strangest notion he should be in pain, but he felt… nothing.
When a worried face hovered above him, he tried to lift his battered hand to touch it, frowning slightly when he didn’t have the strength. The frown smoothed out into a smile as the face morphed into Tamsyn’s, sweet and beautiful, those blessed eyes he adored watching him with love.
He said her name, only her name, before the dark consumed him whole.
*