by K. C. Lynn
“I said step out of the vehicle.”
“Why? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Don’t ask questions and do as you’re told.”
Alarm bells bang around inside of me, dread sinking into my stomach. Many scenarios play out in my mind, none of them good. It has me wanting to punch the gas but I know that would make things worse.
Without having any other choice, I open the door and carefully step down. “Are you going to tell me what this is about?”
He stares back at me, a look of regret washing over his face. “You should have never come back.”
Before I can even process that, the passenger door to his squad car opens and out steps Derek. Panic grips me, temporarily imprisoning me before I snap out of it and leap to jump back inside the truck.
Not fast enough.
A scream rips from my throat as I’m grabbed from behind, Derek’s beefy hand slamming over my mouth before I’m pushed against the truck face-first.
“You’ve been a very bad girl, Ryanne.” His putrid scent invades my senses as he whispers in my ear. The erection pressing at my bottom has terror thrashing through my veins. “We need to have a very important talk, but first it’s time I collect what’s long overdue. Don’t you think?” His hand drops to the top of my thigh, sliding up my leg to push under my dress.
I scream into his hand, struggling against his heavy body.
“Shh. You should be used to this by now. After all, you love to be shared.”
When he touches the center of my panties, bile surges up my throat, a helpless cry shattering my chest. In a desperate attempt at escape, I open my mouth and sink my teeth into the flesh of his hand.
He howls out in pain. “Bitch!” With a fistful of my hair, he pulls my head back and smashes my face into the truck.
Black spots dance in my vision, the metallic taste of blood touching my tongue and running down my chin. The blow dazes me long enough for him to get what he wants. I cry helplessly, the unwanted touch tarnishing my soul.
“Damn it, Lancaster. Hurry up. This wasn’t part of the plan,” Rick says, but continues to do nothing to help me.
“Just a little taste.” Derek removes his hand from beneath my panties and brings it to his mouth, licking his fingers. The groan that leaves him has my stomach rolling and despair washing over me. “So fucking good.”
He flips me around to face him, hand wrapping around my throat as he forces my head back, his malicious eyes staring into my devastated ones. “Now you need to listen and listen carefully. You leave town by morning and take them all with you. Or next time it will be your daughter and I will sell her to the highest bidder.”
The threat has a sob exploding from me, fear unlike anything I’ve ever known sinking into every fiber of my being because I know he’s capable of it. He’d do it.
He crushes his mouth against mine, hard and quick before leaving me with a shove against the truck.
“Let’s go!” he barks at Toder.
My legs quake beneath me, threatening to give out as I try to remain standing.
Rick barely spares me a glance. “Do yourself a favor and leave, Ryanne, before things get worse for you all.”
Once he climbs into the car and drives away, I fall to my knees, a desolate scream shredding my throat. It pierces the air around me and sends my heart crumbling into a pit of despair.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Justice
Dusk has started to set amongst the gray sky by the time we arrive back at the farm. Worry tightens my gut when I find my truck gone, anger quickly following.
Son of a bitch!
My suspicion is confirmed when my father steps out of the house and onto the front porch.
“Where is she?” I ask on a growl.
“She left to see Gwen, but she’s on her way home,” he rushes to explain. “I just got off the phone with her not long ago.”
“Damn it! I told her not to go anywhere without me.”
“I know. I tried to get her to wait but she was adamant.”
Of course she was because she’s fucking stubborn.
“Where’s Hannah?” I ask.
“Upstairs. She fell asleep after dinner while watching a movie so I took her to bed. What did you boys get from Craig?”
“You might want to sit down for this,” Braxten says.
My father’s weary eyes shift between the three of us. “Why?”
I step forward, handing him the photocopied deed.
He takes it from me, looking it over and understanding it more quickly than we did. “Whoa.” He lets out a breath, dropping to sit in his rocking chair, his hand gripping the back of his neck.
“Did you know?” Knox asks.
He shakes his head. “If I did I’d have had a better understanding of why they wanted the land so damn bad.”
“Well, look at it this way. You’re rich and didn’t even know it,” Braxten says, filling the thick silence that has descended with his signature humor.
“Where did he get this?”
“Toder’s office,” I tell him. “He also has evidence of his dash cam being turned off the same time the fire took place. We need to get Jameson here, Dad. It’s enough for them to at least get warrants.”
My father nods. “I’ll call him.”
Before either of us can say more, the roar of my truck penetrates the night as it comes speeding down the gravel road. I turn to look behind me, my forgotten anger resurfacing.
Instead of pulling up to the main house she parks at the guesthouse, the truck screeching to a halt before she jumps out and runs inside.
I don’t think so, baby.
I waste no time crossing the lawn, refusing to let her escape. She’ll be lucky if I don’t spank her ass red for this. Storming into the house, I find her moving for the bedroom. “What the hell did I tell you about leaving this place without me?”
She spins around and the devastation on her marked-up face stops me cold.
“Jesus, what the fuck happened to you?”
“We all have to leave right now,” she cries, fear rippling through her words as she moves about frantically. “You, me, Hannah, your father, and brothers. All of us.”
Her desperation has me pushing forward, aiming to comfort and protect. “Easy, baby. Calm down.” I gently grasp her shoulders.
“No. You don’t understand. We have to leave right now!” She fights against me, trying to rip out of my hold.
“Goddamn it, Ryanne. Stop!” I give her a small shake, desperate to find out what’s going on.
She falls against my chest on a sob. “Please, Justice, I’m begging you. Get me out of here.”
I pull her against me, her anguish tearing me apart. “You’re scaring the shit out of me, Ryanne. Tell me what happened so I can help you.”
She lifts her face to mine, her pale color and split lip ramping up my concern even more. My trigger finger twitches with the urge to kill whoever put it there.
“After I left Gwen’s, Toder pulled me over,” she says, fear thick in her voice. “Derek was with him.” Her body trembles at the admission, sending a dangerous rage to pump through my blood.
“What did he do?” My voice is barely above a controlled whisper, fury igniting in every cell of my body.
When all she does is cry, I grip her arms harder to pull her away, forcing her to look at me even though my body is screaming to pull her closer and never let go.
“What did he fucking do to you?”
“He touched me.” Her breath hitches; despair bleeding through every quietly spoken word. “He touched me again and I didn’t want it.”
It takes a second for her words to penetrate the violence thundering through my body. “Again?” I ask, praying I didn’t hear her right.
A look of defeat passes over her face, a secret she’s kept from me releasing with it. “That night six years ago he was outside your apartment when I came to you,” she says, fighting to get the words past her grief. “
He grabbed me before I could even make it inside. He…” She trails off, unable to finish but she doesn’t have to.
The memory of her face that night breaks through the dark recesses of my mind, looking similar to how it does now. My blood pumps violently, roaring in my ears and whispering words of rage.
“Motherfucker!” The room spins, fury slipping over me dark and rich. “I’m going to fucking kill him!” I flip the couch over, destroying what’s around me.
“Justice, please.” Ryanne covers her ears, crying for me to stop, but the rage fueling me is unstoppable.
Uncontrollable.
I charge for the front door, kicking it open as I head for my truck. Only one thought in mind…
Retribution.
“Thatcher, stop him!” she yells, grabbing for my arm as she follows me outside, tears rolling down her red cheeks and dripping from her busted lip.
Thinking of what he did, seeing the aftermath, hearing her agony…a red haze covers every step I take.
My brothers run for me but Knox is the only one who makes it into my truck before I punch the gas.
“What the hell is going on?” he asks, grabbing onto the roof as we skid along the gravel, leaving Ryanne, my father, and Brax in my rearview mirror.
“He’s going to fucking die,” I seethe, my jaw clenched so tight it’s close to snapping.
“Who?”
“Lancaster.” His name drips with venom, tasting like acid on my tongue. “He hurt her. He fucking touched her.”
I glance over at my brother, seeing the same violence I’m feeling on his hard face. He knows better than anyone what I’m saying.
“He’s gone too far, Knox. It’s time to put a stop to it once and for all. No more waiting.”
He nods.
Revenge settles deep into my bones, bringing a sudden calmness with it. It’s usually what happens just before I pull the trigger, but this time no trigger will be pulled. That bastard will bleed out his death by my bare hands and I am going to fucking bathe in it.
Seated on the outskirts of town, his home is nestled away in privacy, the property scanning a few acres of land. I park a good distance away, hidden out of sight, then reach for my rifle in the backseat.
Knox follows me out of the truck and across the dark yard, his booted steps keeping up to my furious ones. There’s no plan, no time to act or think about anything besides retaliation.
I kick the door open without delay and enter inside to find him in the living room, a bottle of scotch sitting on the coffee table before him. The calmness that claimed me disappears at the sight of him.
He doesn’t seem surprised by our entrance, reaching for the gun that lies next to him.
He knew I would come.
I shoot first, grazing his shoulder.
“Son of a bitch.” He drops the gun, howling in pain as he grabs the wound and falls to his knees.
I toss Knox the rifle so he can secure the house for anyone else, then I move for the fucker, my boots pounding the hardwood, matching the furious rhythm of my heartbeat before I deliver a powerful kick to his face.
His head snaps back, blood spraying as he crashes into the glass coffee table.
“How do you like it, motherfucker?” I send another blow to his ribs, hard enough that it flips him to his back, his mouth opening as he gasps for air. My chest heaves as I drop down to his level. “You are going to die for touching her.”
“She wanted it,” he wheezes. “She fucking begged for it.”
The taunt sends my fists in a rain of fury, shattering every bone in his face. I relish in the feel of his warm blood spattering across me. It seeps into my dark soul, filling it with vengeance.
A gunshot rings out, breaking through the red haze. My head snaps to the side to find Toder rushing in.
“Step away from him, nice and slow,” he orders, gun trained.
My eyes stray to the pistol that lies just a few feet away.
“Don’t even think about it. On your feet now!”
I follow the order, rising slowly.
“’Bout fucking time,” Derek spits, blood spewing as he tries to sit up, but he’s too weak and ends up falling back down on a groan.
“All of this could have been avoided,” Toder says, his narrowed eyes never leaving mine. “Ryanne would have never gotten hurt if Thatcher had accepted the offer in the first place. That nigger still hasn’t learned his lesson, not even after the last time we torched his ass.”
A new rage grips me at the revelation, my fists clenching at my sides.
“He never did tell you boys about that, did he?” he taunts, a gleeful smirk taking over his smug face. “Those scars he bears is because he’s never known where his fucking place is.”
Hate boils in my blood, merging with the fury clawing to the surface. “I’m going to enjoy watching you die, too.”
“I don’t think so, asshole. Thatcher is about to learn another lesson the hard way. Now where’s that brother of yours?”
“Right here.” Knox steps out of the shadows, his shot ringing out at the same time and nailing Toder directly between the eyes.
He slumps to the floor, blood pouring out beneath his lifeless body.
“Fuck!” Lancaster moves, scrambling for his gun.
I kick it out of reach before dropping back down and wrapping my hand around his throat, fingers shaking with the urge to crush his windpipe right here and now.
He stares up at me through swollen, dazed eyes, his battered face practically unrecognizable. “I should have waited until your daddy was home to light that fire,” he sputters, confirming what I always suspected. “Watched him burn like the nigger he is.”
“The only one who is going to burn is you. In hell where you belong.” I reach for the bottle of scotch lying amidst the shattered glass and douse him in it.
He howls in pain as the alcohol soaks his wounds.
I walk over to the bar in the corner and grab a few more bottles, tossing a couple to Knox. He pours it around the room while I lead a trail right over to the bastard and finish soaking him with what’s left.
Afterward, I pull a cigarette out of my back pocket and slip it between my lips before lighting up. The deadly smoke drifts into my lungs, soothing the raging beast as I stare into the face of the enemy, witnessing the fear in his eyes before his final seconds on this earth.
“You wouldn’t,” he chokes, realization dawning.
“Eye for an eye, motherfucker.” I flick the cigarette on him, watching as flames engulf his body, his screams of agony piercing the air.
It isn’t long before the entire room ignites in a sea of orange. That’s when Knox and I walk out, feeling the roaring heat at our backs.
Just as we make it to my truck, Craig comes speeding up, screeching to a halt next to us before climbing out. “Ryanne called, she…” He trails off, his eyes taking in my bloody clothes and the smoking house behind us. “Jesus, what the fuck did you guys do?”
I stare back at him, not feeling an ounce of remorse. “He hurt her. What would you do?”
Understanding grips his face, remorse lying within. The distant sound of sirens penetrates the air, bringing a cold reality with them.
Craig lets go of a heavy breath, driving a hand through his hair. “Go,” he says, surprising me. “Get out of here. I’ll take care of it.”
Knox and I hesitate for only a second before climbing into my truck and driving away, knowing justice has been served.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Ryanne
Despair continues to grip me an hour later as I sit on the couch next to Braxten, pressed against his side with his arm wrapped around me. After I filled him and Thatcher in on what happened they brought me to the house and Braxten hasn’t left my side since. He’s been caring and attentive, acting as a true brother would.
Despite the warmth of his body and the blanket draped around my shoulders, I continue to tremble violently, fearing for the destruction Justice is causing in his wrath t
his very moment.
Thatcher fled the house earlier to go get Gwen and brought her back here to be with us, not trusting what the others would do to her. While he did that, I called Craig and begged him to find Justice before he could do anything he couldn’t take back.
Now here we all sit, waiting for any word, and every second that passes has my hope dwindling.
“I should have come with you,” Gwen whispers in remorse, wiping the tears from her worn cheeks as she holds a cup of warm tea. “I’m so sorry, dear.”
“It’s not your fault,” I tell her, hating to think how much worse it could have been if she had been with me, or even Hannah for that matter.
My eyes close, bile crawling up my throat as I think back on Derek’s heinous threat to my daughter.
“She’s right,” Thatcher says, walking into the room and placing his hand on Gwen’s slender shoulder. “It’s no one’s fault.”
He says that but I saw the guilt on his face earlier. I wish now I would have listened when he cautioned me not to go alone. I just never thought for a second that I’d be noticed. It’s obvious that they were watching—waiting to make their move.
“I just got off the phone with Agent Jameson,” he continues. “He’s taking the next flight out. Should be here by morning.”
Everything has spiraled so dangerously out of control, I fear if Craig doesn’t find Justice soon there won’t be much left for Agent Jameson to take care of.
“What’s taking him so long?” I whisper, not needing to clarify whom I’m talking about.
“Hopefully he’s making the bastard suffer,” Braxten grits, rage hardening his usual playful expression. His shoulders have been tense, body wound tight since finding out what Derek did. It vibrates much the same way mine does. Only mine is from fear, his is fury. A fury much like the one I witnessed from his brother only a short time ago.
My chest tightens at the memory of Justice tearing apart the place in his wrath. I’ve seen him angry before but never anything like that. There was no stopping him. I just pray we are all able to come back from it because I can’t lose him. Hannah and I need him now more than ever.