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Luke hesitated, obviously confused, though his fingers went to his front pocket. “I’m going too.”
Jake glanced at Mac. “You coming?”
“Hell, yeah, I coming.”
“Wait for me.” Raine took a step forward.
“No way. There’s no room.” Jake scowled.
Raine scowled. “That’s all you got?” She shoved her hands on her hips. “Why don’t you just say what you really mean, Jake.”
“Okay, get the fuck out of my face.”
Shocked didn’t come close to describing Raine’s expression, but Cain had no time to coddle or bitch or do anything except get his ass to Maggie’s as fast as he could.
Raine tore her gaze from Jake’s and whispered, “You guys, be careful. And don’t be stupid.” Raine ignored Jake and directed her plea to Cain.
“Don’t worry about us, but if we’re late, go ahead and start the game, ’cause guaranteed, we’ll be here to finish.”
Luke turned and started toward his car. “I’ll drive. The last time one of you got behind my wheel, you damn near totaled the thing.”
Mac laughed as he jogged to catch up. “Hell, I forgot about that until now. A 1980 Plymouth Horizon, if I remember correctly. Shit brown. My old man whupped my ass good over that, just so you know.”
It took longer than normal to navigate the crowded streets, and some of them were still closed because of the parade. By the time they reached Linden, Maggie’s street, Cain was so tense, it felt like his muscles had locked up.
Luke pulled into his driveway, and Cain was out before the car had rolled to a stop. A slick black BMW was parked behind his truck in Maggie’s driveway. It was high-end and easily worth as much as Maggie’s little bungalow.
He jumped onto the porch, paused for a second, and then tried the door. It was locked, and Maggie had not one but three dead bolts in place.
Fuck.
Cain moved to the window and glanced inside. Maggie’s purse was on the floor, the contents scattered everywhere. His gut tightened. His anger—his rage—toward this faceless bastard who’d brutalized Maggie and her son was all consuming. Everything inside him quieted, and a cold calm overtook Cain.
Just then he heard a noise and stiffened. He moved toward the door, hands clenched and ready. When it opened, his world tipped a little off center. Michael stood there, small chest heaving, cheeks stained with tears. “He found us,” was all the boy could say.
Cain scooped the child into his arms and gave him a quick, fierce hug. “Where are they?” Michael burrowed against his body, his small face flush to his neck. “In Mommy’s bedroom.”
He gave Michael one more quick hug. “Go with Luke. I’m going to get her.”
Michael slid to the floor, his voice tremulous. “He’s going to hurt her.”
Cain shook his head. “No. He won’t.” He charged inside, followed closely by Jake and Mackenzie.
He saw a tall man just inside Maggie’s bedroom. His back was to Cain. The man bent over, and Cain saw Maggie on the floor, her long red hair splayed out and the tulips he’d bought scattered beside her.
He would rip the son of a bitch to pieces.
Everything after that happened in slow motion. Just like in movies when the shoot-’em-up scene occurs.
Cain reached the bastard just as Maggie lunged forward and grabbed hold of the vase that lay on the floor next to the bed.
Cain’s fist shot out, and he nailed him with a hard blow to the head.
“What the—” The man fell to his knee and cursed a blue streak as he struggled to gain his feet again, his arm swinging wildly as he tried to aim for Maggie.
Cain grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and whirled him around, his fists flying as he pummeled the man with several hard shots to the chest, shoulders, and face. His rage was such that for a moment he couldn’t focus on anything other than handing out a major beating.
