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“Oww,” she cried out. I snapped my gaze up.
Don’t do it! I roared inside my head, my hand clenched around the gun. All I could think of was that life inside her. The family I’d never thought we’d have.
“Stop…Colt,” she barked.
Move! Move…now!
My fucking hand trembled as I reached for the door handle.
“It’s okay.” Her voice trembled, but it was stronger, full of determination. “I know you won’t hurt me.”
He wouldn’t, would he? Because if he wanted to, he’d already had plenty of opportunity.
The deep, animal grunts came once more. But they weren’t a warning. No. They were a claiming.
“Wildcat,” he murmured. “Mine.”
Anger flared. Jealousy seethed inside me. I shouldn’t feel like this. Not with the one person I’d shared my entire life with, but I couldn’t stop that searing hunger. My cheeks burned. My breaths were a strangled fight for air.
I wanted her.
I fucking wanted her.
I stayed there for too long, torturing myself with the sounds of my brother fucking her like an animal, before I left. But I couldn’t go to my room, couldn’t force myself to sleep in the bedroom next to Colt’s. Instead, I went to the gym, hit the lights on, and grabbed the wrapping for my hands.
I wanted to hit something.
I wanted to tear it apart.
Anything to stop me from charging back to that room and listening to whatever that thing which possessed my brother was fuck the woman I loved. I neared the punching bag. Memories flickered.
Reach up, grab the bag.
My own hunger was so close to the surface. I could almost hear the rattle of the chains as she’d arched her back. I’d fucked her here…fucked her while those bastards did their best to kill my brother.
Oh, my God. That’s Haelstrom Hale.
I reached out and grabbed the bag as that woman’s cry filled my head. They’d tried to kill my brother. They’d tried to kill Vivienne, and now he was what? Fucking dead?
I pulled my hand back and drove it through the air, straight into the leather. The bag bounced, then again as I slammed my other fist home.
“You motherfucker.” I unleashed, swung my body around, and whipped my leg into the air with a roundhouse kick. “You goddamn, motherfucking bastard!”
My fists were a blur.
The bag was bruising as I used my knees, slamming them into the side over and over again. Every cell in my body screamed in agony. But it was my mind that drove me, my mind that howled for justice…and wrath.
He was gone.
They were all gone.
We had nothing but the destruction we’d left behind.
That wasn’t enough. It wasn’t anywhere near enough.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Vivienne
