Chapter 15
JONAH
I’m in a shit mood. In all honesty, I’ve been in a shit mood for the last several days, and it’s only gotten worse.
Today, though, I feel like I can barely contain my annoyance at the world around me—in particular, my brothers, our bar staff, and every person in this building who just had to get a drink on a Wednesday night. They’re the reason that I’m here instead of at home with Ellie. Where I should be.
I can’t shake the bad feeling that’s been brewing in my gut since that asshole showed up in my bar the night of Lucas’s basketball game. Finding out that Ellie had been getting those letters had almost sent me over the edge.
It was only the sight of her wince at my raised voice that kept me from going off.
I would never, ever hurt a woman, not for any reason.
And Ellie knows that. But if hearing me yell or act like an angry idiot is going to fill her eyes with haunted memories of her old life, then I sure as hell am going to learn to control my temper around her.
My temper at the bar is another story.
“Dude, you need to chill,” Sawyer says, glaring at me over the taps behind the counter. “Seriously, you almost made Duncan cry the last time you snapped at him. And that man is former Green Beret.”
I glare right back, not at all in the mood for a lecture.
His face softens slightly. “She’s fine, Jonah.”
“I wish I could be so sure,” I mutter, rubbing at the throbbing place in my forehead. This headache seems to come on every time I’m out of eyesight of my girl for more than ten minutes.
“You can’t stay holed up in the house forever,” he points out, and a little sliver of guilt pierces all the other bad shit swirling in my gut. I’ve skipped out on my last three evening shifts, not wanting to be away from Ellie, which puts a strain on the rest of the staff.
“Besides,” my brother says. “She’s safe at the house. Nick checked the security system two days ago and everything was fine. And didn’t you say Trisha was going to hang out with her tonight?”
“What the fuck is Trisha going to do to protect her?” I snap. “That chick barely comes up to my shoulders.”
“Yeah, but she’s feisty,” he says, a wicked glint coming to his eye.
I hold up a hand, knowing he’s about to give me way too much detail about her feistiness and how he’s benefited from it. I have no doubt that my twin and Ellie’s cousin have been hooking up, but that doesn’t mean I want to hear about it.
“I feel like I’m going crazy, man,” I say, rubbing my hands roughly over my face. “I can’t shake this feeling that something bad is going to happen, you know? Maybe it’s all in my head, but should I really ignore my gut when it’s screaming a warning at me?”
He studies me for a moment, and I know he can read far more from my expression than anyone else on earth. Sawyer and I have always been able to read each other like no one else. It used to drive our brothers crazy.
“I’m not saying you should ignore it,” he finally says. “But I do want to point out that you don’t exactly think clearly when it comes to this girl. You haven’t from the beginning.”
I sigh, knowing he’s right. I have responsibilities. I can’t ignore my job and sit at home twenty-four-seven just because I have a bad feeling.
Right?
“How about this,” Sawyer says. “Someone needs to drive over to Mount Casper to pick up tomorrow’s beer order after closing. Why don’t you go now, instead, and then head home. We can hold down the fort for the rest of the night and it saves someone the trip after closing.”
Relief washes over me. I know I should refuse, tell him that I’m fine to finish the night out. But leaving for Mount Casper now means I can be home with Ellie in a little less than an hour. I can’t bring myself to turn that down.
“Thanks, man,” I say, clapping him on the shoulder. “I appreciate it.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He waves me off. “Let’s just say you owe me one.”
I call Ellie as soon as I’m in the car, letting her know about the change of plans.
“Jonah,” she says, sounding slightly exasperated. “You don’t have to leave early. I’m fine.”
“I know. I just—”
“Besides, I’m having a good time with Trisha.”
“We’re drinking wine and talking about your sex life,” I hear her cousin shout from somewhere near Ellie, then the sound of a muffled scuffle and some giggles.
I find myself grinning for the first time all night. “You can continue to drink wine and discuss my amazing prowess in bed,” I tell her. “I’ll chill in the kitchen and I won’t even listen in. Much.”
She sighs, but I can tell she’s smiling. “Fine. I’ll see you in an hour.”
I make good time heading over to Mount Casper and manage to get in and out without Murray, the beer distributor, talking my ear off. I’m about halfway back to town when my phone dings with a text. I glance at the screen, seeing my twin’s name, and a strange chill shifts down my spine.
I pull off to the side of the two-lane highway and pick up my cell. The words on the screen have my heart plummeting.
Sawyer: The asshole from the other night is here.
Sawyer: I was going to throw him out but he’s talking like he thinks I’m you. Asking me why I’m wasting my time playing daddy to someone else’s kid.
Sawyer: I don’t think he knows you have a twin.
My heart is pounding hard in my chest. I don’t like this. Why would that fucker show up again when we made it perfectly clear we’d throw him out on his ass if we ever saw him again? Has he been in town all this time? What the hell has he been doing?
The idea that he might have stuck around to watch Ellie has anger and fear coursing through me.
I type a quick message to my brother.
Me: Don’t let him leave.
A moment later, a new text pops up.
Sawyer: I don’t like this, man. It seems like he’s trying to keep me talking.
Ice courses through my veins, the culmination of all the days of worry crashing into me so hard my breath gets stuck.
Me: I’m going back to the house. Call the boys. Nick too. Have them meet me.
I pause for a second, a vision of that bloody stuffed cat appearing in my mind’s eye. Then I add, call the police, too.
Sawyer: On it.
I drive like a bat out of hell, breaking about a dozen traffic laws.
I almost hope I get pulled over—I could get the cop to follow me back to the house.
But no red and blue lights appear in my rearview mirror.
And none are shining at the house when I pull in, which means I beat them here.
I didn’t think my stomach could sink any lower, but it seems to find a deeper level to settle on.
The cops should have gotten here before me. I wasn’t going that fast.
What if they aren’t coming?
There’s not another message from Sawyer on my phone. In front of me, the house looks perfectly normal. The upstairs is dark but the living room and kitchen are brightly lit and I can see the TV reflecting from the front window.
But then I look closer and see the front door is open a crack.
Fuck.
The security system would have alerted my phone if a door was open. Unless Ellie turned it off. But why would she do that? And why the hell would she leave a door open in the first place? She didn’t sound that drunk.
I debate for a fraction of a second. We keep a few hunting rifles in the garage. Should I go there first? But then I hear a muffled shout from inside and all thought of plans and weapons go out the window. Ellie is in trouble. I know it. And I have to get inside right fucking now.
The half dozen strides from the curb to the house feels endless.
It’s like one of those dreams where you’re trying to sprint but you can’t seem to make your legs work right, like running through goddamn wet concrete.
Horrible images flash through my mind. The fucking scars on Ellie’s back.
The look of horror on her face when she saw the stuffed cat in the box.
Her ex is a vicious psycho and the idea of him being inside right now with her—
I burst through the front door and everything in me goes cold.
There’s a body on the floor between the living room and kitchen, blood trickling onto the carpet.
It takes me a second to realize the hair is brown, not blond, and I would feel guilty for the rush of relief that brings if I wasn’t so fucking terrified.
My eyes dart from the kitchen to the living room as I kneel down to press my fingers to Trisha’s neck.
Her pulse feels steady and I breathe out a sigh of relief as I pull out my phone. Where the fuck are the police?
“I’d put that down if I were you.”
It’s not every day you find yourself staring down the muzzle of a gun, but that’s exactly what I see when I look up from Trisha’s motionless body. My gaze goes from the gun to the man holding it, hatred burning hot in my gut.
I would know his face anywhere. My brothers, Nick, and I did some digging on this asshole after I brought Ellie to live here.
Kevin Harrington. Psycho. Abuser. Ellie’s soon to be ex-husband.
He’s standing at the front of the hallway leading back to the first-floor bedrooms, a satisfied smirk on his face.
“Jake was supposed to keep you at the bar,” he says conversationally, like we’re just two guys chatting at the gym. “I have to say, I’m not entirely disappointed things turned out this way. It will feel damn good to put a bullet into the man who’s been fucking my wife.”
The tiniest of whimpers stops my heart. I shift so the rest of the hallway comes into view and there she is.
Ellie is slumped against the wall. Did she try to block him from getting down the hall to where Lucas is sleeping?
The thought of her putting herself between her son and this asshole has bile rising in my throat.
She seems dazed, not quite looking at me, and there’s a thin stream of blood trailing down her pale cheek from a cut next to her eye.
The sight of that blood has pure rage pumping through my veins. I’m going to kill this motherfucker.