Chapter 47
forty-seven
DARE
Daylight pours into the building as I burst inside, gun drawn while I race to where Rose is restrained. My heart batters against my rib cage. For a moment, all I see are the ropes tied around her, the drops of blood on the floor, the way she holds her body—as if it’s too heavy to hold up.
She cranes her head, eyes widening. “Dare! Remy is working for my dad.”
My gaze skips to the man I call my best friend before I stop a few feet away from where he and Joseph stand. His barrel is pointed at me, and I keep my gun trained on him.
“Remington,” I growl.
He smirks. “Darian.”
“Shoot him,” Joseph says with all the confidence of a man who thinks he owns the world.
“Nah,” Remy says, holstering his gun and grabbing Joseph.
“What is this?” Joseph shouts. “I’m paying you. ”
Remy chuckles, but it isn’t a friendly sound. “What can I say? I found a better job.” He shoves him to the ground, pinning him with his leg and wrenching his arms behind his back.
It was stupid of Joseph to think that Remy would betray me. It was even dumber to pay him five million to get the job done. After I already had the locations of Joseph’s warehouses, he called in Remy to come take care of Rose. Thanks to Remy playing along with Joseph’s game, that call expedited me finding her.
“Hiring my best friend was your first mistake.” My attention moves back to Rose. There’s a bruise blooming on her cheek. My blood boils. “But your second mistake was thinking you’d kill my wife.”
A relieved sob wrenches out of Rose, and I already start imagining all the ways I’m going to make Joe pay.
“Dare,” she whispers.
But he can wait. “Hey, princess,” I murmur. My focus moves back to the marks covering her cheek, but she lifts her chin, refusing to hide the truth this time. Good girl. “He hurt you.”
“He did,” she confesses.
“I’m going to make him regret it,” I promise. “But you can’t hate me for it.”
Her attention moves to her dad, who is sputtering and trying to push Remy’s leg off his throat. That man has hurt more people than should be allowed. Every second he’s alive is a waste of oxygen, but I can’t make a move until I know Rose is okay with it.
More than I want Joseph dead, I want her.
“Rose.”
Those hazel eyes wash over my face. She licks her lips. “I won’t hate you. ”
Her eyes bounce between mine as I storm toward her. It takes ten seconds to get her untied, and then I pull her out of the chair and into my arms. She sucks in a breath, trembling in my embrace.
God, this woman.
My chest swells with pride and I hold her tight. She wraps her legs and arms around my body, clinging to me. I breathe her in, ignoring everything but that distinct amber musk of my wife. It’s been days since I’ve had it around, and I didn’t realize how much I missed it. Or the feel of her body against mine.
Something warm settles into the empty space she left when she walked out of my house. Her presence makes me whole. Her touch reminds me that I’m human. Her lips brush over my neck and tears splash against my skin.
“I was so scared you’d never forgive me,” she confesses.
“I’ve got you now, Rose. You’re safe.” I run my hand up and down her back. The way her body shakes, even as I’m holding her, like she’s still terrified, has me glaring in Joseph’s direction. Remy still has his hands pinned behind his back. “You have a new family now,” I inform her and Joseph.
“You can fucking have her,” Joseph spits.
Rose stiffens in my arms.
“I wasn’t asking your permission.” I lean back and look Rose in the eye. “I’ll be home soon.”
“Okay,” she murmurs.
“You’re dead to me, Rose! As dead as your mother! You’re nothing without me, you hear me? Nothing.” Joseph’s words come in pants and huffs, strangled by the pain he’s already in.
Rose ignores him, and I hold her a little tighter.
“What, no last words for your dad?” Joseph taunts .
Glancing around me, Rose says, “I feel sorry for you.”
“Fuck your pity. You’re as stupid as your mother was,” he snarls.
Rose’s body is tight and her eyes drift to meet mine. I see his voice penetrating through her walls, slithering inside her head and ready to tear her down, waiting to control her.
I shake my head. “No more.”
Exhaling, she nods. “No more.”
“Remember your promise.”
She cups my face and brushes her lips over mine in a way that has me wondering if Joseph can’t wait to die another day. “I won’t hate you. Make him regret it.”
“You’re so bloodthirsty for a princess,” I say, recalling all the times I told her the same thing.
She presses her lips to mine again, pulling away before I can deepen the kiss. “I’ll be waiting for you at home.” Rose rakes her fingers through my hair and tugs. “Husband.”
I never thought I’d be hard in front of her dad, yet here I am, cock straining for her as Joseph waits to die. “Remy. Make sure my wife gets home safely.”
“Rosalynn!” Her dad’s voice pierces through the air.
She holds her head high and walks away from him, as if his death is as inconsequential as that of a cockroach.
Joseph scrambles off the floor and starts to rush for the other door, but the warehouse is so big that he won’t make it before I descend upon him.
I release a heavy sigh. “They always try to run.”
Joseph’s pants fill the air. The idiot probably doesn’t even realize those doors are locked. I wait until the door shuts behind Rose and Remy before I grab the rope Joseph tied around her wrists and tuck it into my pocket. Pulse pounding, I stalk after my prey .
Joseph finally reached the door at the other end of the building. He yanks on it a few times and shouts for help.
“Aw, Joseph, screaming already?” I sprint toward him, and his eyes widen. He dashes to the side. Course correcting, I close the distance between us as he tries to run, but Joseph is out of practice and, soon enough, I’m hot on his heels.
“Help!” he cries.
Malice rushes through my veins.
“No one is here to help you.” I tackle him, and the air rushes out of him with a hard wheeze. Wrenching his head back with one hand, I use the other to cover his mouth. “No one is going to come save you. It’s just you and me. Even your daughter left you here to die.”
Sweat beads on my forehead and my chest heaves, years of pent-up anger surfacing. This man stole my family. He ruins everything he touches.
My palm muffles his next shout.
“Mmm. Sorry, the time for talking is done.” I take the rope from my pocket, hold two ends, and shove part of it into his mouth. I pull hard enough the gag yanks the skin around his mouth back, then secure it with two tight knots. Joseph’s protests are a series of rough but unintelligible sounds. Now no one will hear him screaming as I break every bone in his body.
He killed my parents.
He hurt my sisters.
And when I finally allowed myself to love someone, he tried to kill my wife.
This man is going to wish he’d never been born by the time I’m done with him.
Standing, I haul him up and drag him to the middle of the warehouse, where the light pools, and toss him on the ground. He skids across it, and right before he stops, I slam my boot into his gut.
Joseph writhes on the floor, and I smooth my hair, circling him and contemplating the best way to start. The knees are as good a place as any. I raise my knee and stomp on his leg. My boot crushes his leg to the ground and he screams—or he tries to. I do it two more times for good measure. Wouldn’t want him to have a chance to recover.
Trying to control my rage is like the end of a fight—muscles aching, body shaking—even though I’ve barely started. My pants are hard and heavy in the air. But I have to take my time.
As he’s moaning and writhing on the floor over his knee, I slam my foot into his face. A satisfying crunch fills the air. His back arches violently and blood pours out of his nostrils.
Nose broken, Joseph gasps and seethes around the rope in his mouth.
Squatting, I watch him battle the pain. “We’re just getting started.” I pat his cheek, his blood wetting my fingers, and he jerks away. “Maybe we call it even, hmm?”
He tries to say something, but there’s no way to make it out.
“No, you’re right, we’re not even close to even.”
His fist flies at me, but it’s a flimsy attempt to hit me.
I laugh and catch it with one hand and break his pinky. His scream is music to my ears, and one by one, I break every finger, then stomp on his hand to break those bones. “That’s for hitting my wife.”
I grab his other hand and start the process over, snapping one bone after another until he pisses himself.
“That’s for hitting her again after I warned you not to.”
I pull out my knife and carve little lines across his skin. Some cuts are shallow, some are deep. I don’t stop when he vomits and chokes on it. I continue the slow torture until his entire body trembles and, eventually, he passes out.
Sitting on the ground, I put a call in to Lorenzo to give him an update. “One of you, get his car ready.”
“What are we doing with his body?” Lorenzo isn’t a close friend, but he’s one of Remy’s top guys, and that’s enough for me to trust him.
I glance at Joseph, who is still knocked out. The broken bones will leave a lot of questions, but there’s one way to cover it, especially with the way the wind has been blowing lately. “Break the driver’s side window. Run the car into the river, the current is strong enough for people to buy that he’s been swept out to sea. I’ll deal with the cameras and Joseph at the factory.”
Meaning, he’ll be put into a barrel of acid.
“Heard. How much longer do you need?” Lorenzo asks.
I could spend hours doing this, but Rose is waiting for me, and she’s already been alone long enough.
“Give me ten.” I hang up and slip my phone back into my pocket as Joseph groans on the floor. I’m done with this asshole. He’s taken so much from me, I won’t let him have more of my time. He’s broken beyond repair, and soon enough, there will be nothing left but his memory. If I had the power, I’d find a way to get rid of that, too, but taking his life will have to be enough.
Climbing on top of him, I sit on his chest and glare down at him.
It’s the end of the road, and it’s as bloody and violent as he deserves. There’s no kindness. No sympathy inside of me as he groans in agony.
All that’s left is fierce determination to finally eliminate the man who destroyed my family.
I slam my fist into his cheek. The impact of my flesh against his reverberates through me. Sucking in a ragged breath, I hit him again.
My parents never got to see me grow up.
His bones hurt my knuckles and his blood splatters against my skin, but I don’t stop.
They never knew my sisters as adults. My sisters had to live in hiding for years, forfeiting a normal life.
Joseph’s agonized noises echo through my ears.
How is this fucker still alive?
I’ve spent years alone because of him. Never allowing the friends I have to get close, for fear of losing them. Years of being called a monster for murdering my parents. Ostracized by everyone I once admired because of this asshole.
The day he came to see me before the trial, I thought someone was finally there to save me, but I had nothing and no one.
And that’s his fault.
His
fucking
fault.
His
fault.
HIM.
A scream tears out of my throat. Deep and ragged and chased by a freight train of emotion.
My knuckles smash into his face. I hit him again and again, growling like the wild animal everyone accuses me of being as my flesh connects with his. This man has stolen too much of my time. Taken that which doesn’t belong to him. Blow after blow, I ensure that Joseph Miller will never hurt anyone I love ever again.