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Chapter forty-six
When we reached the cottage, the front door was open. Not a surprise because I’d left in a hurry. I figured Lincoln and Caspian did, too.
What I didn’t expect to see when we walked inside was a naked Anniston—except for that creepy lamb’s mask—barely moving and face down on the bed in the corner. Her body was trembling while a man leaned over her, moving his hand across her back.
“It hurts,” she whimpered. The moment she saw me, she screamed my name.
I ploughed across the room, ransacking the man off her body.
Blood. So much blood. Her back was painted in trails of it.
I bolted off the bed and barreled into him, crashing his back against the wall. The sheetrock caved in, sending chunks of white dust crashing to the floor. “What did you do?” I jerked him forward and slammed him back again. His head hit the wall so hard he bit his tongue, coating his teeth in blood. “What the fuck did you do?” I yanked him forward, then slammed him face down onto the table. “If you…” My body was shaking. My voice trembled. The words were acid in my throat. I couldn’t force them out.If you fucked her…
He spit on the table. “She liked it.”
I punched him in the fucking face, feeling bone crunch beneath my fist.
He laughed. “I mean, that’s your thing, right? Knives are your foreplay. Blood is your aphrodisiac.”
I picked his head up and slammed it back down. “Stop. Fucking. Talking.”
Liam was at the windows, ripping the black cloth away and bathing the room in bright sunlight.
“I was there, you know.” The man chuckled, then spat again. “I saw the whole thing.”
He was at The Induction. That explained the mask. He was part of Obsidian. Of course, he was one of those demented fuckheads. Ordinary people didn’t torture women, then fuck them for fun.
I glanced over my shoulder, watching as Liam draped the cloth over as much of Anniston’s body as he could. He took the mask off her face, and I fucking came unhinged when I saw her bloody, swollen cheekbone and bruises on her temple.
I’d killed men. More than I cared to count if I was honest. Life was a game of survival, and I played to win. And this asshole was about to be another point on my scorecard.
I grabbed one of the butt plugs from the table, ready to cram it down his throat and make him suffocate on it. I was all for eating ass, but this was a stretch, even for me.
“Chandler, don’t.” Anniston’s voice was like ice-cold water on the raging flames of my anger.
I shoved the plug in his mouth, then clamped my hand over it. “You have about one point five seconds to get right with the Lord.”
She was off the bed now, standing inches away from me. Her beautiful fucking body was shivering as she held the cloth closed around her shoulders, covering her chest. Her voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, like she’d been screaming but no one heard.No one fucking heard.
The palm of my hand was covered in saliva from the asshole fighting for air. Snot flew from his nose, so I moved my hand to close that airway, too.
She placed her hand on my forearm. When her eyes connected with mine, I nearly lost my breath. “Please.”
“You don’t want me to kill him?”
She shook her head.
I pointed at her face. “Look what he did to you, Ani. And he wasn’t even finished yet. What if we hadn’t walked in?” I used her name. That was how fucking desperate I was. I needed her to hear me, to stop being so goddamn stubborn.
Let me do this.
Let me take care of you.
He was squirming now, and I knew that was his body’s way of trying to survive. He was looking for a way out, any way out.
I glanced at Liam, who simply shrugged. That fucker wasn’t any help. Where the fuck was Grey when I needed him?
She reached over and laid her hand over my hand, slowly pulling it away from this man’s mouth. The minute he could breathe, he spat the plug out and puked all over the fucking place. The rancid smell blended with the scent of piss and sex in the room.
Anniston placed one hand on my cheek, then leaned up on her tiptoes and gently kissed my lips. “I don’t want you to kill him.” She dropped her hand and lowered herself back down. “Because I want to do it myself.”
And then she lifted a gun—who the fuck knew where she got it from—and shot him in the chest.
