Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
“Where is my wife?” Rage twisted and heaved inside of Kurt Wellington. He should have been on his honeymoon by this point. He should have—finally—been fucking Delaney.
He’d played the patient boyfriend. He’d wined her. He’d dined her. He’d been the perfect gentleman.
Well, okay, fine, he’d been perfect until the end.
But was it his fault that she’d walked into that gun scene?
Not like the woman should have been there.
He’d specifically told her that he would meet her later.
How the hell could he have known that she wanted to surprise him?
But she’d appeared, holding his favorite bottle of whiskey just when he’d been in the act of executing an asshole who’d thought Kurt would not find out about his betrayal.
She’d dropped the bottle. It had shattered. He’d whirled and almost shot her, but he’d stopped himself even as she’d rushed forward and tried to save the idiot who’d earned himself a ticket straight to hell.
Delaney had known nothing about the man she fought to save. Typical Delaney. Soft heart. Foolish choices.
She should have been married to me by now.
And, fine, he could see where he’d maybe overstepped by tying her up and locking her in the closet. But he’d just been trying to keep her in line. That was the same reason he’d used the knife in the church. Not like he’d stabbed too deeply. He’d barely broken the skin.
She left me.
It was driving him crazy. He wanted his gorgeous bride back.
Her and her fortune.
Delaney…something about her had challenged him from the beginning.
He’d felt like she was holding part of herself back, and he’d been determined to break through every defense that she had.
In his life, he’d always gotten everything that he wanted.
Nothing was unattainable. But Delaney…a piece of her had just seemed to be right out of his reach.
Now he knew why.
Who was the bastard in the church, my love?
The man she’d run to. The man who’d fought for her. Tricky, tricky Delaney.
The man who will soon be dead.
The clerk from the motel had fled. But Kurt’s men had tracked him down. The little shit was currently in the chair in front of him, arms tied behind his back. Blood dripping down his chin. Fear oozing from him.
If Delaney had been there, she’d probably be throwing her body in front of the kid, even though he’d sold her out. Probably trying to say that Kurt shouldn’t torture him.
Kurt waved his hand, indicating that his man should punch the clerk again. Immediately, a powerful fist slammed into the jerk’s jaw. His head whipped to the right.
But Delaney isn’t here to beg me to stop. And I’ll do whatever it takes to get her back. An obsession was growing inside of him.
Hurt pride? Maybe. Because no one took what was his.
But…
More.
I will always get what I want.
“Stop! Please!” Blood flew from the guy’s mouth. “I told y-you everything! He took her…left…please!”
Kurt began to circle his prey. “You said he came in alone at first, that he got the room for them?”
“Y-yes…Yes! He asked…asked for two beds. That’s h-how I knew he wasn’t alone.”
So he’s not fucking Delaney…yet.
“Big guy, dark hair, weird eyes.”
Weird eyes? He stopped circling. “Weird how?”
“Different colors, man! Different!” His whole body shook in the chair. “One brown, one blue.”
Interesting.
“I-I went in their motel room. I was just unlocking the door, trying to make it easier for you.”
“You didn’t make it easier, dumbass. If you hadn’t done anything, they wouldn’t have been alerted. Because of you, my bride got away.”
The idiot’s eyes were saucers. “That’s why she was wearing that wedding dress? She married you?”
No, not quite.
“He was protecting her like crazy.” The idiot licked his bloody lips. “You should have seen the way he looked at her. The man was clearly obsessed.”
Kurt’s body tightened. “Was he now.” Not a question.
“He, uh…” The guy hunched his shoulders. “I don’t want to get hit again…”
Kurt’s eyes narrowed.
“But, uh, he said…said…I mean…” The motel clerk cleared his throat. “I told him that no pussy was worth dying for.”
Kurt’s hands fisted.
“But he, um, he said…hers was.”
Rage nearly blinded Kurt.
You will die, you interfering bastard. I’ll track you. I’ll find you. I’ll kill you.