Chapter Forty-Six
Rygaard
Shortly after I slam the phone down, I go hunting for what we’d need tonight.
Hidden behind Presley’s little library, buried deep within the guts of the mini apartment I’d built for her, is my personal armory, my quiet, vicious insurance policy. When I come out, I’m packing a mean punch and an even meaner intention.
That fucking bastard came into my home and stole my girl. He didn’t just cross a line, he declared war.
How the fuck did he find us? How did he have the balls to rip away the only thing tethering me to sanity?
He won’t leave alive.I
’ll make damn sure of that.
I’m locking up the apartment, blood pounding in my temples, when I hear tires screech across the pavement.
Shouting.
Footsteps.
Making it outside, I see the passenger side of Rafe’s car crash open, and there he is, Kemper, standing to his full height as he exits the car like he owns it. A snarl pulls at the corner of his lips.
Rafe closes in, coming to stand beside me.
“Kemper,” I spit, fingers tightening around the handle of my weapon. “You’ve got ten seconds to tell me where the hell she is, or this is going to get real ugly for you.”
He laughs, deep and twisted, the kind of laugh that comes from someone who knows they’re already dead inside. “You think I’m scared of you, Rygaard? I know what you’re capable of. But that bitch, she’s already gone. And you’re too fucking weak to stop us from doing whatever we want with her.”
Rage explodes through my veins, clouding my thoughts with violence.
I lunge at him, faster than he can react. My fist connects with the side of his face, the sickening crack of bone splitting the air. Kemper stumbles back, his nose bleeding, but the grin never leaves his face. "You really think you can intimidate me, Rygaard?"
I snap my leg out, kicking him hard in the chest, sending him crashing into the car. He grunts, but he’s still standing. The bastard’s tough, but not tough enough.
Rafe steps in, his voice cold and determined. “Tell us where she is, Kemper. Don’t make this worse than it already is.”
Kemper spits blood onto the ground, sneering. “You think I’m gonna tell you shit?” He lunges at Rafe, but I’m already on him, throwing a brutal punch into his gut that leaves him gasping. The stench of sweat and blood fills the open space.
Kemper tries to retaliate, but I’m faster. I slam him into the ground, pinning him down with my knee against his chest. “Where. Is. She?” I growl, the words dripping with venom.
Kemper’s eyes narrow, but there’s no fight left in him. He knows he’s about to lose, knows he’s out of time. “Fine,” he rasps, his voice gravelly from the pain. “There’s a motel. Off Route 12. Room 707. That’s where she’s at.”
I don’t let up, tightening my grip around his throat, cutting off his air supply. He gasps, but I’m done listening to his lies. I need Presley back.
With one final squeeze, his body goes limp. He’s still alive.
Barely.
Rafe stands over me, his eyes hard. “We got what we needed. We’ll dump him in an alley somewhere. Someone’s bound to find him.”I don’t answer. I stand, wiping my hands on my jeans, the rage simmering in every muscle. We’re not done yet. Keifer’s not dead, but the war’s just begun.
I look at Rafe, my voice a low growl. “Let’s go get her.”
And together, we head out into the night, nothing but rage and blood driving us forward.
Minutes later, we’re peeling out, headlights off, silence heavier than a loaded gun.
“You think she’s okay?” Rafe mutters, knuckles white on the steering wheel.
“She’s my Little Hellion,” I grit out. “She’s stronger than he could ever imagine. But if he got her outta that house... He didn’t do it clean.”
"You think he, ?"
"He drugged her. Had to. There's no fucking way he took her otherwise."
Rafe slams his fist against the wheel. "Motherfucker!"
I nod grimly. “She’s been training. She would’ve ripped him apart with her bare hands if she could.”
“I just hope we aren’t too late.” His voice cracks on the edges.
I glance out the window, jaw clenching. “If that piece of shit wanted her dead, she’d already be in a body bag. No. He wants her alive . He wants to own her again.”
“Fuck!” Rafe snarls, pounding the dash. “And every second he keeps her drugged, she gets weaker.”
“She won't stay weak for long. I’ve got a team ready to clean her system out again if it gets to that. She’s not going back to the hell she crawled out of. I won’t let that happen.”
I feel like the world is falling away under my feet. Rage burns away the fear. All that's left is bloodlust.
“How the fuck did he find out where you lived?” Rafe grits out.
“I don’t know. But after I get Presley back, I’m gonna rip the answer out of his fucking throat.”
The motel looms out of the dark, like a rotting corpse.
Abandoned. Forgotten.
Perfect for monsters to hide in.
“Park over there,” I mutter. “Kill the lights. Slow.”
We creep toward the crumbling building. “They’re in room 707.” Rafe leans in for a closer look. “Second floor.”
I sling my black bag onto the cracked pavement. He kneels down and peeks inside. "Pick your poison," I say, voice like death breathing down a neck.
He whistles low. "Holy shit... Where'd you get all this?"
“My father’s legacy,” I growl. “And his curse.”
Rafe stands, one of the heavier tools of violence already gripped in his hand. His face glows with grim excitement.
"You think your old man still wants revenge?"
"I don't think," I snarl. “I know . I'd bet my fucking life on it."
The time for talking is over.
I sling the bag over my shoulder and roll them loose. Rafe cracks his knuckles beside me.
It’s time to paint 707 in blood.
And hell itself is coming with us.
As we close in on the battered motel door, I hear her voice… Raw, broken, desperate.
"Keifer, please, no more."
That’s all it takes. I don’t knock. I slam my shoulder into the door so hard the frame cracks, splinters flying. My eyes rake the room, hunting for the bastard.
Keifer crouches behind Presley with his fucking hand wrapped around her delicate throat, grinning like the fucking devil.
“Well, well, Rygaard finally decided to crash the party. We've been keeping our little toy… busy.” His laugh is a wet, rotten thing.
I barely hear him. My gaze locks onto Presley, crumpled in the corner like a broken doll, blood painting her mouth, a savage bruise blossoming around her eye. She was shaking, not just from the cold, but from the terror leaking out of her pores.
Something inside me tears loose.
“You know what happens to thieves in third world countries that touch what doesn’t belong to them, Keifer?” I ask, voice low, almost gentle. I’m already trembling, rage bottling up under my skin, ready to blow. “They get their hands cut off.”
He meets my eyes and spits blood onto the floor like he thought he was some kind of fucking man. “I don’t give a fuck what happens to some gutter rats halfway across the world,” he sneers.
Brave. Stupid. Dead man walking.
I smile. It isn’t friendly. It’s death carved into a mouth.
He still has his filthy hands around her throat. Still thinks he’s in control.
Big mistake.
Presley whimpers, her voice a shattered whisper. “Ry... just go. Please. I didn’t ask you to come... don’t ruin this... again.”
Her words slice deep, but I don’t flinch. Can’t.
“You never had to ask, Princess,” I growl. "It's not a choice. It's my fucking blood oath. "
Then the others slither out of the shadows, rats from the walls, closing in around her.
"Our little kitten doesn’t want to share her milk, Rygaard," one of them snickers. My fists clench so tight my knuckles crack. Don’t say my name.
Not like that.
Not here.
Not now.
I can smell the fear dripping off them, even if they didn’t know it yet.
I step closer, voice cutting like a knife.
"Look me in the eyes, Presley. Tell me you want this life. Tell me you want them over me. "
She keeps her gaze locked on the floor. Shaking her head. Silent.
Cowardice. Shame. Pain.
All of it.
"I don’t want you, Ry!" she screams, voice breaking. "I don’t want your fucking help!" It hit me harder than any punch could, but it doesn’t matter.
I can see the chains around her wrists, invisible but real, dragging her down. Chains he’s put there.
I turn my dead eyes on Keifer. "You're already dead," I say calmly. The predator slipping its skin back on.
Then I disappear into the darkness.
Panic breaks across the room.
"Where the fuck did he go, Keif?!"
Keifer’s voice cracks when he answers, his bravado bleeding out. "I don't know. Grab her. Now. He’ll never get her back. She’s mine. "
Not for long, mother fucker.