Chapter 21
Malcolm
I wait for Andy to finish running glue on the joists so we can put down another sheet of subfloor.
With the bright, blue sky above and the trees bordering the site, the view is relaxing up here if I ignore the mess of materials, machinery, and the other workers below.
My mind runs on June yet again. It’s been doing that all morning. I imagine her beautiful face and smile, and warmth fills my chest. My thoughts inevitably plunge balls-deep into filth. Just like I’ve been balls-deep inside her for the past two days.
I’ve earned medals while I served, yet claiming June that first time on Sunday is my greatest achievement. Of course, her family won’t agree. Paul will definitely try to kill me when he eventually finds out I’m fucking his daughter.
But I don’t care. June is mine now and I’m not letting her go. Which is why my main goal is putting my baby in her belly as soon as possible.
Andy straightens from his crouch and we work together to lift and carefully set the sheet down. My phone rings in my pocket as I’m reaching for the nail gun. I take it out, smiling at the name on the call display before I answer.
“Hey—”
“Mal, you need to come home,” June says, her voice high and shaky.
My smile fades. “June—”
I’m cut off by a sudden rustling and a startled sound from June. A male voice snarls in my ear.
“And you better hurry, or you’ll never see her again. Don’t even think about calling the cops either.”
The disconnect tone follows after.
I squeeze my phone tight, my nostrils flaring, my breathing heavy. The fury coursing through my veins is both hot and cold. He didn’t need to tell me not to call the police. That motherfucker will pay by my hands first before I let the cops collect his body.
“Where are you going?” Andy calls after me as I stride to the ladder.
“I have to go. It’s an emergency.”
I’m down on the ground and in my truck in seconds, kicking up dust and gravel as I peel away from the site. I’m well over the speed limit the entire drive to the apartment, and I experience something I haven’t felt in a long time: genuine, gut-clenching fear.
Fear for June’s life, and fear of failing to protect her from whatever the bastard might have done or will do to her in my absence.
My grip tightens on my steering wheel, my arms rigid.
No. Fuck fear.
It’s useless and it’s dangerous. But rage has power and purpose. Throughout the course of humanity, rage has defeated evil, created heroes, and fuelled acts of love. I will use mine to do all those things too for June.
I pull into the apartment building’s parking lot and flee my truck. Then I finally learn who’s been terrorizing June this whole time when I unlock the apartment door and step inside.
His voice wasn’t familiar over the phone because we hadn’t spoken that night, but I recognize his face.
I should’ve known.
Statistics don’t lie.
More often than not, an asshole who’s stalking and harassing a woman is usually an ex.
My gut instinct told me it was him that first night we found signs of the break-in. When June vouched for him, I let it go because I thought it was jealousy that she once dated him clouding my judgment.
What I should’ve remembered is that my sweet June always sees the best in people and never the worst until it’s too late. I’m the most recent example.
“Welcome home,” Tyler taunts with a smirk, standing behind June with a pistol pointed at her. “You made it just in time for the show.”
June’s sitting on the loveseat, her back straight as a pole. Though her face is emotionless, terror is evident in her eyes, in her rigid pose, and in the way she’s squeezing her hands tight in her lap.
Based on what she’s wearing, it looks like the fucker caught her just as she was getting ready to head to work. As much as I hate seeing her fear, and my blood boils that Tyler is causing her distress, I’m relieved there aren’t any signs he physically harmed her.
I hold her gaze. “Everything will be OK.”
Tyler scowls. “Fuck you! Don’t talk to her! I’m the one calling the shots here.”
He nervously adjusts his grip on the gun’s handle and my anger intensifies. Jesus fucking Christ. He doesn’t even know how to hold it properly. Weapons are most dangerous when it’s a bad or an incompetent person holding them. Tyler is both.
“OK. Let June go, then we can talk, just you and me.”
I keep my voice calm despite the fury inside me.
“Hell no. She’s staying for the show, then I’m gonna take her somewhere else for some private entertainment. Just like old times.”
Tyler slides his free hand over her shoulder and arm. June shrinks away from his touch. I’m going to break his fucking hand. But the first thing I need to do is de-escalate, then try to get that gun far away from June. Everything else will fall into place.
I keep my voice even. “Tyler, you don’t have to do any of this. You obviously love her—”
“Yes, I do! I know she still loves me too even though I fucked up. I was working on making her forgive me until you came along and stole her from me. You caused this!” He smiles, his eyes glittering with malice and instability. “You’re going to get a taste of how you made me feel. Grab a chair.”
He points in the direction of the dining room with the gun. I hesitate for a beat. If I lie to him about our relationship, he might see me as less of a threat and let his guard down.
“You have it all wrong, man. I’m her uncle.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me!” he snarls. “I saw her post on her feed when you moved in with her. You’re together.”
I glance at June in surprise and there’s a guilty look on her face. Was she pretending on social media that I’m her boyfriend this whole time? I file away that amusing discovery and focus on the moment.
Nothing I say will change Tyler’s mind. He’s sticking to his plan because he’s come this far already. With slow, robotic movements, I go to the dining room and pick up a chair, then face him. If I get closer, I can throw the chair at him, but it might strike June in the process.
“What next?” I ask.
Tyler rounds the loveseat and grabs June’s arm, yanking her to her feet. He holds her close to his side and smirks.
“Now we go to the bedroom for the show.”
His sick plan clear, my grip tightens on the chair. He wants to violate June while I watch. I look at her to see if she understands this. The stricken look on her face says she does. She speaks for the first time.
“Tyler, please. Let’s just talk about this—”
He sneers. “No. I tried to talk to you but you wouldn’t listen.
You kept blocking me, remember? Now it’s time for a little action, baby.
My dick will remind you how great we used to be together.
” He grins at me. “And Mr. Tough Guy will cry when he hears how much you love it too.” He jerks his chin in the direction of June’s bedroom. “Let’s get a fucking move on already.”
My jaw clenches as I struggle to remain expressionless while bloodlust runs through my veins.
Patience.
Wait until the moment is right.
With the plan he has in mind, he’ll have to put down the gun.
Reluctantly, I take the chair with me to June’s bedroom. Tyler follows with June. He orders me to position the chair by the side of the bed and makes me sit. Next, he gets out white zip-ties from his pocket and shoves one into June’s hand.
“Tie his wrists behind his back.”
June trembles, her fingers curled tight around the thin strip of plastic, her eyes shiny with tears.
“Tyler—”
“Do it!” He points the gun menacingly at her. She whimpers and recoils from it.
“Do as he says, sweetheart,” I say calmly.
I don’t like the way that bastard’s shaky, inexperienced finger keeps getting closer to the trigger. Chances are high he’ll shoot her by accident or in a panic if he thinks he’s losing control of the situation.
June woodenly moves behind me and sinks to her knees. I grab her hand and gently squeeze it in silent reassurance before she coils the hard plastic around my wrists. I don’t take my gaze off Tyler.
His face is shiny with sweat, his heavy breathing whistling through his nostrils. His arms shake as he struggles to keep the gun trained on me because he keeps shifting his weight on his feet.
The zip-tie’s teeth clicks loudly in the silence as June secures it around my wrists. She stands, and I’m proud of her smart thinking to leave some room for me to work my hands free.
However, Tyler peers behind me to check, and he orders her to pull it tighter. She reluctantly obeys, only stopping when Tyler is satisfied at the hard plastic digging into my skin. He grins.
“Alright. Let the show begin.”
My heart drums, my breathing deep with fury. I’m going to kill him plays on repeat in my head, each iteration louder than the next. It’s a fact, like saying the sun is hot or that oxygen is necessary for survival. As soon as that fucker puts down the gun, I’m going to fucking kill him.
“If you walk away now, you’ll have plenty of time to escape before the cops show up,” I say. “But if you lay a finger on June, I’m going to make you suffer.”
A fearful look passes over his face before he hides it behind another stupid grin. I can’t wait to punch his face.
“Big words from a tough guy who’s all tied up,” he taunts. “You can’t do shit to me.”
He grabs June with his free hand and pulls her to his front. When he tries to press a kiss to June’s cheek, she cries out and twists her face away.
Then everything happens fast, a series of events that would look dramatic if time were slowed down. At last, Tyler puts down the gun on the dresser so he could embrace June fully from behind.
“No!” she shouts, struggling to escape his hold.
Tyler lifts her as I rock forward onto my feet and stand, the chair sliding free from my back and thumping onto the carpet. To my surprise, June uses one of the moves I taught her on Sunday, slamming her feet backwards at Tyler’s crotch.