Chapter 40
The Worst Kind of Bad
CALLIE
Shane squats in front of me. His eyes wander from my face down to my chest, where my long-sleeved shirt is taut against my breasts with my hands pulled behind my body.
I shiver in the cold barn air, struggling to swallow. He’s right. I’m weak and stupid and all alone. I have no leverage. No way I can refuse this man whatever he wants.
“Now, what’re we going to do? Where are your watch dogs? Not here, huh. That’s a pity for you.” He grins but there’s no joy in it. It’s a wicked smile.
My face still stings on both sides where he hit me. What is Shane capable of? Even I don’t know. Fighting in the ring seems to have unleashed something even more monstrous in him. It was probably there all along, just barely contained.
And it scares the shit out of me.
Will he kill me? It certainly feels like that’s where this is heading. Fuck.
“I’ll give you the money.” My voice comes out as a whimper, and I hate it, hate myself for the choices I’ve made. I couldn’t control who I was born to, but I could’ve not married Shane. I could’ve divorced him years ago.
But I didn’t, and here I am.
Shane reaches over and grabs my breast, squeezing hard and then twisting my nipple. I cry out and close my eyes.
“It’s been a while since we fucked. Should we give it one last go before we get you logged into your bank account?”
“No, Shane.” I let out a pathetic whimper. He laughs and squeezes again.
“Then again, I’m no longer interested in your dry, loose cunt. Not like your fuck boy is.” He slides the finger off my chin and releases my breast with a disgusted look on his face.
A single tear escapes my right eye, followed by another and another until streams of tears run down both sides of my face.
I don’t want to be the kind of woman who needs saving, but I need Wes to save me.
Now. My train of thought splinters as Shane walks over and picks up the divorce papers he took from my apartment.
“Let’s take care of these, shall we?” Then he pulls the papers out of the folder and unceremoniously rips them in half, then in half again. He watches with a smirk as my shoulders heave with sobs.
I’ll never be free of him. Never. Shane will always own me. And my always might not be very long.
Wesley, please come. I’m sorry. I want you. I need you. I love—
Then, I see a shadow moving behind him at the open door.
What the fuck?
Shane must’ve seen my eyes dart over his shoulder, because he spins to the doorway and pulls out a long knife that was tucked somewhere underneath his jacket. He curses and watches the entrance, his eyes flitting down to the gun on top of his bag.
“Who’s here?” he spits out, shoulders raised and tense, his body in his fighting stance.
Maybe I imagined the movement. Maybe it was nothing. I take a few deep breaths. Despair threatens to drown me. I definitely imagined it.
Please save me, Wes. Please.
And as if I conjured him out of thin air, Wes steps out of the shadows.
“Hello Shane, you piece of shit.” Wes’s eyes flash to me, and I feel the fury radiating off him.
“He’s got a knife, and a gun, Wes. There.” I nod to the bag that’s a few steps away.
But Wes doesn’t move, just continues to stare at me, his fury at Shane dimming, replaced with concern and relief. There’s more there. Anger and heat and much—
Shane takes advantage of the distraction and throws himself at Wes, knife first. Wes reacts quickly and manages to grab the wrist that has the knife, but Shane gets a powerful punch into Wes’s gut.
His whole body doubles over and for a second, I think he’s going to fall to the ground.
Shane reaches for Wes’s neck in slow motion.
I gasp and struggle against my restraints, but moving only pulls the duct tape against my skin. Watching this happen is torture. What if I’m about to watch Shane kill Wes? Wes doesn’t have a weapon. How could he come here without a weapon? And where’s his brother?
“Fuck,” I whisper, but no one pays me any mind. This is a nightmare. It was already a nightmare, but now it’s even worse.
As soon as Shane gets his hand on Wes’s neck, Wes comes at Shane with a fierce uppercut to the jaw, causing Shane’s head to fly back and his hand to slip. Then Wes bends Shane’s wrist until he screams. The knife falls to the dirty barn floor with a dull clatter.
Wes lets Shane go, and the man stumbles back. I expect Wes to finish the job, but instead, he stands at the ready, watching the scene unfold.
Then Noah strides up from behind me and swings a baseball bat at Shane’s head, making contact with his skull with a sickening thud.
Shane crumples to the ground, unconscious.
“Sorry about that. I had to get the bat from the bed of the truck.”
“Fuck, took your sweet time, huh?” Wes growls.
Noah shrugs and looks down at Shane. “I wonder if he’s dead?”
I let out a crazed laugh, trying to process it all. They came for me. He came.
“Calliope.” Wes appears in front of me, dropping to his knees. “Are you okay?” He reaches up to cup my face with his hands, rubbing his thumbs along my sore cheeks, wiping away the tears.
I nod because there are no words.
“I’m sorry it took us so long to get to you.” Wes leans around me and pulls a knife out of nowhere to cut me free of the duct tape.
It’s in this moment that I realize that I’m completely in love with Wesley Winters.