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“Yes.”

I read over the notes the doctors left, three broken ribs, bruises, burns, cuts, a nose broken. Severe dehydration, starvation, damage to her sex and stitches to her anal. I might not know everything he did to her, but I know he’s going to die painfully. Very fucking painfully.

“I can send Killian, he can help. I would have Salem and Zane, but she’s…”

“No. I don’t need help,” I grit out.

“Okay, just please, please be careful. I want to know. I want to know when you have him, and I want to know when you’re safe.”

I’m not used to others caring about my safety, so when Aziza's voice breaks, beginning to cry on the other line, it makes me uncomfortable, and uneasy. But I remember what he did to my girl, and I’d do anything for her. Even if that meant walking into a trap and getting myself killed. I’d do anything for her.

“Okay,” I mutter before hanging up and dropping my phone.

Making my way to the living room, Gabriel stands in the fridge searching for something.

“Where’s your chocolate milk?”

I stop in my tracks, narrowing my eyes at his question. “I don’t have any,” I lie. They still have yet to see the other side of my garage that holds my large fridge, filled with chocolate milk. And I don't expect to tell him today.

“I need to head out. I’ll only be gone for a few hours; I won’t have my phone.” I hate the idea of leaving. But I refuse to let him be this close, knowing he’s closing in on her.

Gabriel slams the fridge closed and glares at me.

“Where are you going?”

“Out.” I don’t bother telling him. Slamming the garage door closed, I climb inside and leave my property.

I don’t care what happens to me, as long as I drag Reaper down with me.

Shifting my rifle behind my back, I climb over the fence, dropping to the ground. The sun setting helps disguise me as I shift through the bushes to the main breaker. If I were thinking better, I’d be more prepared to cut the power. But I wasn’t.

I was thinking of Izel, and the way she looked in the hospital bed. The screams she made, the pain.

Shaking my head to clear the noises, pulling my gun out, I shoot into the main breaker, cutting the power out. I sneak to the back door and wait. Reaper doesn't take long to open the door and step out.

Stupid fuck.

Twisting his arm, I yank, pulling his elbow from his socket. Reaper bellows. Using it as my advantage I kick his knee, sending him down. Where I grab him from the back of the head and smash my knee into his face, breaking his nose, I pull back ready to shoot him when he grabs a hold of my ankle and moves himself out of the way.

“Fuck,” I growl, catching myself on the railing. Grabbing the back of my head, he catches me off guard, smashing my face into the railing. Blood pours down my nose, and my vision blurs. Ramming my elbow back, I hit something causing him to yell out.

Turning, I ram my fist into his face, once, twice and the final time he falls back. He gasps for air, but I don’t stop.Her screams. The marks left on her skin.I see everything. It all is too much, and I can’t stop.

“You left me for this?” a familiar female voice says close behind me.

Dropping Reaper to the ground, I can’t turn around. If I don’t see her, then she can’t be here.

“Look at me,” Izel growls.

Turning around, I face a very angry redhead. Arms crossed over her chest, my clothes hang from her body.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” I try to defend myself. But what else can it look like? I look like a toddler with my hand in the cookie jar.

“No? Because from where I stand, you’re beating my rapist.” Izel chuckles, eyes darting down to Reaper. The hatred is shown as she continues to stare at him, her fist tightening on her bicep as she grinds her teeth.

“Then I guess it does look like that.”

"How’d you find him?” Izel asks, stepping forward.