Chapter Twenty-One
Huxley
Rage churns and burns. I grip the steering wheel with more force than necessary, imagining it’s the neck of whoever touched Grace. She stares out the window as I drive to Nelson’s house. She feigns nonchalance, but tension radiates from her. Her acting like she’s afraid of me—that I’m just as bad as the man who hit her—stokes my fury further.
But could it really be her family? They’re giving her a generous monthly allowance. Why do that if they hate her? Or is the payment to get her to shut up about the abuse, assuming it’s an ongoing thing?
I consider the idea, but ultimately reject it. She has too much pride and sass to stay silent over money. And she has a job. It doesn’t pay twenty-five K a month, but it’s enough to maintain her dignity. Besides, wouldn’t somebody at her office have noticed bruises by now?
I want to ask, but doubt she’ll tell me anything. She didn’t tell me who did this to her. What does she think I’m going to do? Join them? She flinched when I tried to turn her face so I could examine the injury.
She’s my fiancée, my future wife. It’s my responsibility to teach anybody who dares to touch her a lesson they’ll never forget.
My plan to have her move in is pushed aside to deal with whoever had the nerve to mark her. It’s more important—and far more urgent.
I pull into the Webbers’ driveway. Nelson’s home is ostentatious and way above his means. But his family is like that in every respect. Big egos with nothing to back them up.
I climb out and the open the passenger-side door. “Let’s go.”
Grace looks away, her chin tight.
“I can stand here all night.”
Eventually she steps out, not meeting my gaze. She stays rooted to the spot. I put a hand on her elbow and bring her forward. I ring the doorbell, and Grace turns around, shifting until she’s standing behind me in the dark. Fine tremors rack her. I hate that someone put this fear into her, and that I wasn’t there to do anything about it.
Three beats later the door opens, revealing Karie, still in that ridiculous, overpriced dress that might look good if she were thirty years younger. Her eyebrows jump an inch—or try to, but her over-Botoxed forehead doesn’t allow much freedom of movement. The corners of her mouth turn down. No cosmetic surgery can hide the deep, unhappy ugliness she holds inside.
She quickly schools her expression. “Are you here to apologize for your shameful behavior?” she demands haughtily.
“No.”
“Then you aren’t welcome.” She glares at me, but blanches as soon as she notices Grace.
“I see you understand the reason for this visit.” I grab Grace’s hand and walk past Karie into the house.
“What do you mean? It has nothing to do with us!” Karie says hurriedly. She doesn’t seem to realize her reaction has given her away. She shows no shock at Grace’s swollen cheek, which by this point does look a bit shocking.
I stride to the living room. Nelson is in the middle of pouring himself a whiskey. But when he notices me, he flinches, spilling the alcohol. “Oh, shit.”
Vivienne starts toward me until she notices I’m not alone. “Why is she back here?”
“Viv!” Karie hisses.
I scan the room. “Where’s Mick?” The asshole could be hiding like the gutless coward that he is.
“He’s not here. Busy at work.” Nelson licks his lips. “Why?”
I pull Grace forward, gently but firmly. “Who did this to her?”
Karie lets out a shaky breath. “How are we supposed to know?”
Vivienne glances at Nelson, who turns his glass with listless fingers.
“No explanation whatsoever for the injury?” I say, my tone growing increasingly icy. “She was fine just this afternoon. And I doubt anybody at the Pryce Family Foundation did this to her. Then she came here.” I look at each of them in turn, my eyes coming to rest on Nelson. “So. Who was it?”
He clears his throat. “She’s a clumsy girl.”
I cock an eyebrow.
“She probably ran into a wall.” Avoiding my gaze, he opens and closes his right hand.
You . A fiery need to get justice for my woman erupts. I leap the distance, grab the back of his head and smash it against the wall hard enough to make the liquor cabinet shake.
“Augh!” he screams.
I smash his face into the wall again. Just because I feel like it, and he deserves to suffer.
He garbles another word that sounds like fuck , but it’s hard to tell with the blood gushing from his nose.
I let go. He crumples to the floor. Karie rushes to him, then glares up at me. “You asshole!”
Vivienne starts crying hysterically. Grace just stares, her mouth slightly parted. I put a finger underneath her chin and lift it up, closing her mouth. I put my arm around her.
“Gonna sue yer ass,” Nelson mumbles. “This is a fuckin’ lawsuit.”
Like I give a damn. I let my gaze sweep over the trio of Webbers. “Touch my woman again, and I’ll end you.”