Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
RHYS
W e just pulled up to the sheds, and I have one thing on my mind. Morgan.
But when I see a pale Miles running towards us, a bad feeling forms in the pit of my stomach.
“Miles?” I ask him before he opens his mouth. He hesitates and I hate it, so I repeat myself, saying his name louder, “Miles!”
“It’s Dani and Morgan.” He says between pants. “Some guy has them cornered in the shop. I think Morgan called him Ethan?”
Dread fills my entire body. “Are you sure?”
He nods. That’s all the confirmation I need. I start running in the direction of the shop while telling them to get Brent, and to keep Molly and Seraphina away.
It’s a four-minute walk from the shed to the shop, so running should be quicker, but why does it feel longer?
I’m just about at the footpath leading up, when a gunshot rings out. I come to a halt. Fuck .
I slowly, almost tiptoe, up to the shop door. I peek in, careful not to set the bell off. Dani is cowering in the corner, but unharmed. She sees me and mouths Miles . She’s scared and she wants her person; a feeling I can mirror.
I rake my eyes over the shop until I find Morgan, standing tall with a bloodied lip, facing her monster. Her monster, who is waving a gun around.
“I told you, if I can’t have you know one else will.”
“I don’t have anyone else!”
“He answered your phone.” He screams in her face.
“You mean Rhys? He’s Shane’s mate, you know that, you’ve met him.” Her voice is quiet, almost pleading.
He fires the gun, hitting something to her left. Morgan flinches, and I fight the red haze of absolute fucking anger. I have to be smart about this. I can’t storm in. He does have a fucking gun after all, and I can’t fight a bullet.
The crunch of gravel grabs my attention, and I turn to face Brent, Beau and Davis. Trust these men to always have my back, and now hers. I hold my hand out and gesture for them to be quiet. I notice Brent’s rifle in his hand. I point to it and gesture for him to give it to me.
He doesn’t hesitate to pass it over. Davis and Beau go around back with their own rifles. I didn’t notice Miles at first, but when I see him, he is pacing back and forth a good ten meters away.
“You get Dani out. I’ll focus on taking that prick out. I’m going to need one of the sheds. Again,” I whisper. Brent just nods.
He could argue it’s his station, his property, he makes the calls. But Morgan is mine and he knows not to question anything right now.
I give Beau and Davis what I think is enough time to get into place before taking a deep breath, settling the gun into position and walking through the door. As soon as I enter, the bell goes off, giving away my presence.
Ethan turns quickly, sees me, and grabs Morgan using her as a shield, pressing the gun into her temple. Coward. I was always planning on killing him, but now I’m going to drag it out, and make it hurt.
“Ah Rhys, nice of you to join us.”
I look straight at Morgan. “Princess, you good?”
She shakes her head slightly but still remains standing tall.
“Princess? So, you are fucking him!” His grip on her throat tightens. Her eyes widen and she starts to pull at his hand.
I shoot one shot, narrowly missing him. He shifts the gun from her to me. This isn’t the first time I’ve stared down the barrel of a gun, but this is the first time that gun is being held by someone so unpredictable.
I jerk my chin in their direction, “Let her go.”
“Yeah? Or what?”
This is when Beau and Davis make their appearance. Waiting for the perfect, be it cliched, timing. Which has Beau written all over it.
“Fucking these one as well, Princess?” he mocks.
Tears start to form in her eyes. Fuck. I need to end this.
“Like I said, let her go.”
“Don’t think I will,” As quick as the gun was pointing at me, it’s now at the apex of her thighs. He is rubbing the fucking thing between her legs. “She has the tightest cunt I’ve ever had, and takes a beating like no one else, I think I might keep her.” He kisses her cheek
I step forward, but Davis’s ‘don’t’ stops me. Ethan chuckles as if he has won something. “Like I said I want to keep her, she has her purposes.” She lets out a choked-on whimper. “Shh baby, remember how well you take a hit or my cock? You’re a natural. You make me so proud.”
I feel helpless. I don’t have a clear shot, and I’m not risking her. Beau and Davis look over at me, feeling just as helpless.
The hand at her throat slowly trails down her body. Just as his fingertips reach the button of her shorts, she throws her elbow back.
He releases her, but keeps hold of the gun. As he is bent over trying to suck in a breath, she knees him in the face.
“That-a-girl.” Davis says.
Ethan groans, holding his face. She kicks him in the torso, over and over again. She doesn’t stop until I wrap my hands around her.
“It’s okay Princess, I got you. It’s okay.”
Turning in my hold, Morgan buries her face in the crook of my neck. And let’s go.
Beau and Davis move towards the bleeding, crying cockhead. They lift him under the arms and drag him out to the shed.
I continue to hold her until she gathers herself, and when she pulls away from me, I place a finger under her chin and lift it up. When her blue graze meets mine, I ask, “What do you want to do?”
I know what I want to do, but it’s up to her.
He is her monster after all.
She swipes at her face, removing any evidence of her crying, stands tall, and in a deadly calm even voice, she says, “I want him dead.”
Well, that was always going to happen. It was whether she knew about it or not .
Together, hand in hand, we walk to the shed. When we open the door, Ethan’s hands are tied together above his head, blood drips from his nose and mouth.
“Baby, please. You know I didn’t mean any of that, we’ve had good times. Let’s leave here and go somewhere else. Start fresh. Just me and you.” He has made his voice small and weak; how pathetic.
Worried that she’s considering it, I look in her direction, but there is nothing but pure fucking determination.
“I don’t think so, Ethan.” She is playing with a hunting knife. Where in the fuck? I look over to Davis, who is watching her with pride. He must have given her his.
Helping her get the revenge his sister never could.
“Baby—” It gets cut off in a cry as she plunges the thing into his side, twists the blade, and rips it free of his body. Might not be an instant death blow, but it sure as fuck hurts. Good.
“You hurt me daily.” She swipes the blade down his chest. His shirt tears open, showing the small bubbles of blood forming along the cut. “Not just with your hands.”
She swipes over his chest again but in the opposite direction before tossing the knife aside.
“The mental abuse.”
She punches where she stabbed him.
“The emotional abuse.”
She knees him in the balls.
“You had me wishing for my death,” she yells in his face, “Wishing that you’d go too far and kill me, so I didn’t have to deal with it anymore!”
She throws one more punch to the centre of his chest, winding him once more. She steps back heaving in deep breaths .
Once he is somewhat breathing okay, he spits blood at her feet. I watch as his whole temperament changes, and it’s chilling. He looks up at her with dead eyes, and when he smirks at her, it’s pure evil. Blood trails from his mouth and down his chin. “I’m not a killer like you.”
“I haven’t killed anyone. Yet.”
“I’m talking about our baby.”
Everything slows. Morgan’s arms fall to her sides like they weigh too much, as she stumbles back.
I close the distance between us. I wrap one hand around her waist, silently letting her know I have her.
But she doesn’t register it, she shakes her head trying to process what he said, her voice is small, “What? How did—? What?”
“I knew. Of course I knew. When will you learn? I know everything that happens in your life.”
“But...” She seems so lost and confused.
“You killed our baby,” he spits out again.
Her hand rests over her abdomen. “I had a miscarriage.” She shakes her head whispering, “It wasn’t my fault.”
But he hears her. “Yes, it was. The one thing you’re meant to do, and your body couldn’t even do that.
Maybe the baby knew how pathetic its mother was going to be.
And just like everyone else in your life, it left you.
When will you realise, I’m the only one that can love you?
The only one willing to put up with you. ”
This seems to be her snapping point, because when I go to step around her to sort this prick out myself, she effortlessly picks the blade up. He is about to say something stupid, but she closes the distance, and she thrusts the blade up under his ribs.
“You don’t get to talk about my baby!” Then she forcefully removes the blade, steps back, and slices his throat. Ethan’s eyes widen, and he starts gasping for air like a fish out of water as blood gushes from the gaping wounds.
‘Fuck’ gets muttered behind us.
Morgan lets his blood wash over her. She doesn’t move, just blankly stares at him until the light in his eyes completely fades.
Once his body is limp, the blade slips from her hand.
She walks over to his body, and starts to hit and kick, screaming at his hanging corpse until she collapses to the floor sobbing.
I start directing Beau and Davis. “Beau, can you make sure no one is around? Davis, you right dealing with the body for now?” Beau steps outside and Davis nods, and starts working on getting the body down; while I gather Morgan in my arms.
“All clear, hose is running.”
I walk Morgan outside; she seems to be working on autopilot. “I’m sorry, this is going to be a crude wash. I can’t take you back covered in blood.”
She barely nods, and when the water runs over her, she barely moves; her face is completely void of all emotion.
When I’m confident most of the blood is washed off, we walk back to my place. She still hasn’t said anything; that is until we walk into the bathroom.
“It wasn’t my fault.” I remove her shirt. “I would have loved my baby with everything.”
“You do, Princess. You do love your baby with everything.” I push her shorts down, helping her step out of them.
I slowly remove her underwear, trying not to cause her to feel any more exposed than she already does… I’m not focused on her nudity, I’m focused on her and her mental state; getting her clean and making sure she is okay is my only thought, my only priority .
We enter the shower together; I’m still fully clothed. I turn the spray on, cold water hitting us first.
“I–just killed a person.”
“Yeah, a little bit.” I confirm.
The water starts to warm up. “Am I a bad person?”
“I don’t think you know how to be a bad person.” I kiss her shoulder, and let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding, when she leans back into my embrace.
“I don’t think I would have been able to do that without you by my side.” She turns in my hold, her small hands cup either side of my face, I lean down until we rest our foreheads together. “Thank you.”
Then she’s standing on her tiptoes and kissing me. I kiss her back, but I stop when she tries to deepen it.
With my hands on her shoulders, I tell her, “Morgan, I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”
“I can still feel him on me. I can still feel his hands as they ran over my body.” She runs her own hands over her body, trying to scrub his touch from her.
“I can still feel his erection grinding against my ass. I can still feel his blood on me. He’s everywhere, again.
Help me forget. Please, Rhys. Replace his touch with yours.
Please. Please make me forget him.” Her eyes pleading as much as her words.
And I want to, fuck do I want to; I want her always.
I want to help her forget him. But this afternoon has been intense, and sex isn’t going to help how she’s feeling right now.
It will just be a mere distraction, a Band-Aid stopping her feeling what is running through her body, until tomorrow when the weight of it crushes her.
I see the moment she takes my hesitation as rejection.
She takes a step back, shielding her body and shutting me out. “Just get out. ”
“Morgan.”
“I said leave.” She turns, giving me her back, letting the water run over her body.
My heart squeezes in my chest. I tell her I’ll call Shane, to let him know Ethan is no longer a problem.
“Get him to book me a flight home while you’re at it.”
“What?” I spin around to face her. Her expression is stone fucking cold.
“He’s dead. He was the reason I was here, right?” I silently beg her not to say the next words. “There’s nothing keeping me here.”
I simply nod, as my heart I once protected, that started to beat for her, falls dead in my chest. I step outside and ring Shane.
He answers on the second ring. “You right?”
“He’s dead, book her a flight home.” I don’t recognise my own voice. Cold and detached.
He starts to respond but I hang up, letting the walls she broke down rebuild themselves while reminding myself; I don’t do feelings for this very reason.
Fuck you, Morgan Elliot.