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The give of cartilage, the resulting crunch, and the spurt of blood only fed the part of him hungering for revenge, that terrifying part of him he tried so hard to keep buried beneath the laidback nerd exterior. It was that beast inside of him urging him on as he grappled with Evie's tormentor.
Glancing to the side, he saw her. Pale face, wide eyes, and the dark trickle of blood running down her cheek. In that moment, the beast took over. Relying completely on training and instinct, he shoved Montgomery into the wall, savoring the way the man's eyes blurred when his head collided with the drywall.
"Not so tough now, are you? Huh?" Gripping the collar of Montgomery's dress shirt, now stained with the blood running from his nose, Jason pulled him forward just enough to slam him back into the wall. The drywall splintered at the contact, and the beast inside of him roared with satisfaction. "Not as much fun when someone fights back, is it, asshole?"
Montgomery's lips curled up in a sneer, but it was the glee in his eyes that told Jason something was wrong, seconds before the glint of the blade caught his eye.
Before he could process the threat, he was shoved to the ground. He turned back just in time to see the knife swing upward, sliding easily into Roland Berkshire's chest.
* * *
Evie's stomachrolled at the pain in her cheek. God, he was really going to kill her this time. Through the haze of tears, she saw Jason. Her sweet, gentle, loving Daddy became a completely different man the second Branson cut her. A man more than capable of tearing another human being apart, piece by piece.
Branson must have seen it too, because he shoved her aside with a snarl. It felt like everything was happening in slow motion, but she was powerless to stop it as she watched the two men move toward each other, both with murder in their eyes. Jason lunged for Branson, and her heart seemed to stop. They struggled, though it wasn't much of a struggle. Although he was slightly smaller, Jason had training and killer instinct on his side. When he slammed Branson into the wall, she had a moment to be relieved, thinking he'd won.
And then she saw the knife. She opened her mouth to scream, to warn Jason, but no sound came out.
From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of movement. Turning her head, she watched in horror as her father pushed up off the floor and threw himself between the two men. The knife in Branson's hand disappeared between them. Her father's body jerked, and when he looked at her, she knew. He smiled, just a little, before his eyes went empty and he fell to the ground.
There was a heartbeat of silence before the room erupted around her. Luca and Octavius rushed in, tackling Branson to the ground as he screamed at them to release him, "I'm the fucking governor of Oregon, you worthless little shits! Get your hands off of me!"
"All you're going to be is somebody's bitch by the time I'm through with you," Luca growled, pressing his knee into Branson's back.
"Dad?" Crawling toward her father's lifeless body, her breath caught in her chest. "Dad? No, no, no, no."
Before she could reach him, she was scooped up into a familiar pair of arms. "Baby. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."
"No, I need to see him. He's not… he can't be… please." Burying her face into Jason's neck, she clung to him, desperate for the comfort she normally found in his arms.
"Roland? Oh my God. Roland!"
"Mom!" Jerking out of Jason's grasp, she ran to her mother who was still seated on the couch, her face white as a sheet. Gathering her mother into her arms, Evie rocked them both back and forth, desperate for some kind of comfort in the face of a grief she couldn't even begin to process. "I'm so sorry, Mom. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"What the hell? Oh, no. Oh, shit." Teagan's familiar voice ripped Evie's attention away from her mother.
Looking up, she found both of her sisters standing in the entryway. Teagan had pulled Ro into her, shielding her from the bloody scene in front of them.
"Teagan Anne! Get out of here! Now!" Luca barked from his position on the floor, where he and Octavius were still struggling to restrain Branson.
Beside her, Evie's mother let out a short, strangled cry before going limp in her daughter's arms.
Chapter 15
One week later…
Dropping her purse just inside the front door of Jason's house, Evie kicked off the torturous stilettos she'd forced herself to wear all day and moaned with relief.
Jason's arms slipped around her waist as soon as the shoes came off. "Hungry?"
"No. I just want to go to bed." She wanted the sweet oblivion of not having to think or feel for whatever length of time she could get it.
"You haven't eaten all day, little one," he chided gently. "You need something in your tummy."
"I said no, Jason." Shrugging off his touch, she stalked to the stairs. She'd just buried her father. Couldn't he leave her alone for five goddamn minutes?
But when he didn't follow her up the stairs to his bedroom, she had to fight back another wave of grief. In the week since her father's death, he'd barely touched her. And he hadn't once spanked her, not even a little warning boop. He was like an extremely polite shadow, always hovering just off to the side but mostly staying out of her way.
In the bathroom, she stripped off the black dress and tossed it aside. Looking at her reflection, she turned her head to the side and examined the long scar Branson had left her with. The doctors had done a decent job closing the wound, though it was still pink and puffy. A constant reminder of the pain and suffering she'd put her family through. A permanent mark on her otherwise flawless skin.
