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Murderous rage has my insides constricting, tightening muscles so much that every move I make is stiff. The temptation to slaughter Caleb on sight is overwhelming, but that’s not how we do things with Malus citizens. He’ll be put in front of the town and they’ll vote. After seeing the damage he inflicted on Sierra, along with the other crimes he’s committed, I have no doubt what their vote will be.
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I slam through the front door, intent on getting a few good licks in before JW hauls him off to a holding cell to await his sentencing. The house is quiet. There’s a good chance he may not even be here. He has to know after what happened last time and the warning he received that we’d be coming after him. If he was smart, he would have left as soon as he noticed Sierra was missing, but it’s easier to look in the obvious places first and work our way out from there.
I stalk through the living room and into the kitchen, keeping my eyes peeled in case the little fucker is hiding somewhere. Both rooms are empty.
“Judge!” Trouble shouts from one of the back rooms.
My legs carry me on long strides down the hallway to where JW just entered a room. I pull up short once I clear the doorway. Trouble is bent over a body, his torso blocking my view of the person’s face. It doesn’t matter though; I know it’s Caleb. The question is, why is he on the floor?
Trouble moves to the side, and holy fucking shit, the man’s face is beat to hell and back. Blood coats damn near every inch, with several scrapes and lacerations mixed in, and one of his eyes is swollen shut. There’s also a nasty-looking tear at the corner of his mouth. It looks like someone took a sledgehammer to his face.
“Is he dead?” I ask, a suspicious thought forming in the back of my mind.
“No,” Trouble grunts, checking the pulse in his neck. “But it’s weak. With his face like this, there’s no telling the damage done to the rest of his body.”
Caleb’s hand twitches, and he lets out a low moan. I rush over and kneel beside Trouble. The eye that isn’t swollen shut cracks open. I lean over him and get in his face.
“Who did this to you?” I ask, my voice coming out a grizzly growl.
He moans again, his lips parting on a ragged exhale. “S-ser-a.”
The name was a raspy whisper, but it rings loud and clear in my head, sending death tolls screaming in my ears.
I bring my face so close to his that I feel the heat of his labored breath. “Did you leave those bruises on her face?”
“No,” he groans. “She did herself.”
I rear back, uncertain I heard him correctly. A glance at Trouble shows I heard him just fine. What the fuck? Sierra hurt herself? But why?
“Fuck!” I bellow and launch up, beating feet out of the room and down the hallway. I yank my phone from my pocket and find Ellie’s number. My hands shake as I bring it to my ear.
That Goddamn bitch lied, and she did it knowing I’d go after Caleb, leaving Ellie and Maisy alone, something I haven’t done since the person who shot Brittney, killed Earl, and tried to kill Trouble was never caught. But what the fuck is her motive? What in the hell does she want with them? Clearly the woman is deranged if she’s willing to beat the fuck out of her own face, so it doesn’t matter the reason. I don’t want her near Ellie and our daughter.
When Ellie’s phone rings several times before going to voicemail, a guttural growl leaves my lips. I barely suppress the urge to ram the fucking device through the wall.
Hearing heavy footfalls behind me as I sprint out the door, I don’t need to look to know who’s following. JW and Trouble both know the conclusion I’ve come to.
Seconds later, I’m jumping in my car and JW is getting in on the passenger side. No doubt Trouble stayed behind to take care of Caleb
JW already has his phone to his ear, calling Emo, as I screech away from the curb. Thank fuck I brought my car. I try Ellie’s phone again, but it goes straight to voicemail this time.
“Meet us at Judge’s place. Ellie and Maisy are in trouble.”
He hangs up and tosses the phone on the dash, then grips the “oh shit” handle as I turn a corner, the tires squealing against the pavement.
“What in the hell is Sierra doing, Judge. Any idea?”
“I have no fuckin’ clue, but I’ll rip her to shreds if she touches a single Goddamn hair on their heads.”
Under normal circumstances I’d never lay a hand on a woman. However, if she were to hurt another woman or child, especially my woman or child, then all bets are off. Over the years, my brothers and I have had to eliminate women who committed unspeakable crimes. People like that, no matter their sex, aren’t human enough to deserve more.
I screech to a halt in front of my house and slam my car into park. The engine hasn’t fully shut down by the time I’m throwing my door open. I make it up the steps and to the door within seconds, my heart in my throat and my mind conjuring all kind of possible scenarios I might walk into. Bad ones. Gruesome ones. Terrifying ones.
I wait until JW ducks around the side of the house before bursting through the front door, knowing Sierra heard the screech of my car and is expecting me. I come to a halt when my eyes immediately clash with Ellie’s. She’s seated on the couch, facing my way. Her eyes are round and filled with ungodly terror. A trickle of blood seeps down her chin and a bruise is forming over her eye. There’s a piece of tape over her mouth, and her arms are behind her back, undoubtedly with her wrists tied together. I can’t see her feet, but I’m sure they’re tied as well.
I scan the rest of the living room and find Maisy in a kitchen chair, her shoulders slumped and shaking and her face splotchy red from crying. From my position, which isn’t the greatest, I can’t detect any noticeable injuries, but that doesn’t mean jack shit. Sierra’s around here somewhere and Ellie didn’t willingly let her tie her up. Sierra used some type of force.
