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Teague’s nostrils flared as he gripped his knees.
“We have to stop playing his game,” she said. “Teague, you’re the only one who really stands up to Father. Lincoln and I took the easier route just trying to make him happy. But we can’t let him continue to control our lives.”
“If I have to barricade the church doors—”
“She isn’t marrying that son of a bitch.” I spoke without thought despite the words were true. Even if we hadn’t already taken vows, I wouldn’t have ever let her anywhere near that bastard again.
“Glad we’re in agreement there,” Teague said.
“Lincoln,” she said, softening her tone. “You should sit.”
He paused pacing for a moment, but shook his head. Beau pushed off the desk and stood between her brothers, taking one of each of their hands in hers.
“Do you have the photos?” She looked at me.
I pulled out my phone and scrolled to the images of the damage he’d inflicted on her. I held up my phone, unable to look at the pictures for more than a second. My rage wouldn’t help things now, but I really wanted to thrash this room to pieces.
“You said you hit your jaw on a desk.” Lincoln spoke carefully, but his anger was palpable. Like he was barely containing it.
I moved on to the pictures of her arm and wrist before pocketing my phone. If I let them look much longer, they were going to explode. At least now I could see with my own eyes what I had thought.
If they’d known he’d hurt her, they would’ve unleashed holy hell on Alex Davenport.
“He touched you,” Lincoln grated out, staring at her still-bruised face.
“Are you all right?” Teague asked through his teeth.
“I will be.”
Her throat worked as she swallowed. “Father saw . . .” She hesitated as she tried to collect herself. “He saw Alex force himself on me. Saw him do that.” She shuddered. “He didn’t stop it. And he’s still pressing for the wedding to move forward.”
Teague bolted from his seat. “Son. Of. A. Bitch.”
He picked up a paper weight and then seemed to realize it wasn’t his to hurl. He slammed it back on the desk. “You aren’t ever going to see either of them again.”
Glad we were on the same page about that too.
She gripped Teague’s arms. “I love you for being so mad on my behalf. But we have to think how we can use this to our advantage. How we can end this once and for all. Don’t you want to be free?”
“Yeah. I do. But not if it means my sister gets used as a punching bag.”
“You said he forced himself on you. Did he . . .” Lincoln trailed off as if the vile word was too much for him to speak.
“Just kissed. And touched,” she croaked.
Kissing was sacred to her, and that bastard had stolen that from her. No man had the right to take what wasn’t freely given. No man had the right to hurt innocent people.
I’d known we were going to discuss this, but reliving it was going to give me a heart attack. Or stroke. My heart raced as the fear she’d had that night pummeled my brain.
I needed to hold her. To feel that she was safe.
But her brothers needed that reassurance too.
Teague pointed at me. “You knew about this and didn’t say anything?”
His wrath was easier to take because if I were in his shoes, I’d feel the same way. He had to direct all that anger somewhere, and I was the easiest target.
“I follow Beau’s lead.” I folded my arms over my chest.
