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With a GED and no other job prospects, I picked up more side work for Ulfric and other members of his MC. Dex also threw some assignments my way.
As Juliet’s eighteenth birthday approached, we stopped living in fear that her aunt and uncle might try to force her back into their house. Mr. Porter worked hard to protect Juliet’s inheritance and honor Mrs. Shields’ wishes. He wasn’t going to let anyone interfere, no matter how much her aunt and uncle bitched.
For St. Patrick’s day, Juliet and I stuffed ourselves with corned beef and cabbage. Juliet baked an Irish Apple Cake that I was dying to dig into.
“I know it has the sauce, but I think ice cream would be so good with the cake,” she said as I helped her clear the table.
It did sound good. “Is that a hint that you want me to run out and grab ice cream?”
She flashed the sweetest smile that I couldn’t resist. “Would you? Vanilla.”
“Anything for you. Be right back.” I kissed her cheek, grabbed my wallet and keys, and headed to Stewarts.
Juliet
Roman was gone for maybe ten minutes when someone banged on the door.
I raced out of the kitchen to answer. “Did you forget your key?”
Without peering through the curtain-covered window, I slid the latch free.
Something hard thumped against the wood, rattling the glass.
The door crashed open.
I let out a short scream and jumped from the intruder.
Uncle Jared.
Instead of relaxing when I recognized my uncle, my body coiled tighter.
“Uncle Jared, what are you doing here?”
Like a snake, he struck. His hand wrapped around my neck. With enough force to shove a car over a cliff, he pushed my back into the wall.
Pressure at my throat choked off my air. I kicked out and clawed at his arm, desperate to breathe.
“Think you’re so clever, huh? Got that old bitch to leave you all that money and you’re gonna skip out on us? Forgetting all the years we let you live under our roof?”
“Let me go,” I rasped. Like a fish on a hook, I kept struggling to free myself.
“Letting that criminal live here. Acting like a whore. Your aunt’s sick to her stomach. What would your mother think?”
I couldn’t answer any of those questions. His hand was too tight.
My vision darkened at the edges.
No.
I kicked out again, too feeble to do damage. My foot missed his crotch by inches and he laughed.
“Trying to hurt me, little girl?” He slapped my cheek. “Try again.”
He released me. I crumpled to the floor.
Air. Breathe!
I wheezed and gasped.
My gaze strayed to the broken front door.
There was nowhere to run to. He’d follow me into the street and drag me back by my hair. No one would hear me scream.
“I liked you better when you were little,” he spat. “When you listened to me.”
“I was scared of you.” I coughed. “You hurt me.”
He tore a vicious hand through my hair and jerked me into the living room, throwing me on the couch.
“We’re not blood-related. My wife is gone for the weekend.” He wrapped his calloused hand around my jaw and squeezed. “I never hurt you that bad. What happens stays between us. No one else needs to know.”
Once again, he was trying to make it sound like I wanted or invited this madness into my life.
I hadn’t.
I never had.
Chapter Fifty
Roman
I walked in on a nightmare.
Juliet.
My girl red-faced. Clothes torn. Hair tangled.
And that motherfucking uncle of hers standing over her, undoing his belt.
“What the fuck!” I shouted.
I’m not even sure what happened after that. Red vapor clouded my mind, narrowing my body down to one purpose.
Kill.
Everything I learned at the Castle returned with lightning speed.
I struck hard and fast.
Two shots to his kidneys.
Jared went down on both knees.
I kicked him in the face. Blood spurted everywhere from his broken nose.
My next kick landed in his gut. He rolled to his back and I straddled his chest. My fists crashed into his face, punch after punch.
Juliet’s cries and her little hands tugging on my arm finally snapped me out of the red fog.
On my knees, I crawled away from Jared’s battered body and wrapped myself around her. “Are you okay, baby?”
“I’m okay,” she rasped.
I pulled away and studied her face. Red cheeks. Red rings around her neck.
Shaking with rage and fear, I held onto her as hard as I could without hurting her.
“Is he alive?” she whispered.
“Who gives a fuck?”
Ignoring me, she crouched over Jared and searched for a pulse.
“Well?” I asked. “Are we calling Dex to help us bury the body? Or the cops to take Jared to jail?”
She blinked and stared at me. Was that too much info about Dex? Oh, well. I couldn’t be bothered to worry about his secrets right now.
“He’s alive,” she said.
I yanked out my cell phone and dialed 911.
Hours and hours of questions.
“Your aunt and uncle are your guardians, but you live here?” one officer asked.
