Page 17 of Beneath His Vow (Knocked Up and Locked Down #1)

FOURTEEN

CASEY

As soon as I hear Nitro yell my name, I’m up, out of my seat, and heading into the bar. Nothing—and I mean nothing—could prepare me for what I see.

My wife. My beautiful magnetic wife is leaning against him, clutching her bump like a lifeline. Her shirt is torn, and mascara is smudged under her eyes.

My feet are moving before I even think about it.

I walk faster, then break into a run.

The moment her eyes lock on mine, her knees buckle and I swear she says my name before she goes down.

Nitro hisses a “Fuck!” as he grabs for her.

Then I’m in front of them both, taking her weight from my oldest fucking friend.

Lexi’s fingers fist into my shirt, sobs hiccuping out of her. My heart’s hammering like it’s trying to crack my ribs.

I don’t know what the hell happened to her, and that terrifies me. I wrap my arms around her, holding her close, like that can protect her from whatever she’s faced.

“Who fucking touched you?” The words rasp out of me like glass shredding silk.

She presses her face into my chest, shaking so violently it rattles my teeth together. “Don’t let me go,” she sobs.

I gather her tighter. “Never.”

Her head notches under my chin, and I glance over at Nitro, who shifts his shoulders, his eyes like stone.

Others are gathering close. Chopper has his knife out, flicking the blade as he stares at her, breaking in my arms.

Every brother in this club loves Lexi like family.

I don’t move, just let her cry until there’s nothing else to come out. And when she’s calm enough, I pull back and lift her chin. Her face is blotchy, her lashes damp.

“Baby, I need you to tell me what happened if you can.”

She blinks, as if she can’t quite compute anything. “Can we go to your office?”

Terror wraps around my lungs like sharp barbs.

But I help her up.

The second she’s upright, she wobbles, and I scoop her into my arms.

Her breath hits my collarbone, her sobs slicing clean through me.

I lower her onto the couch and close the door before I sink onto my knees in front of her. Then I wait for her to speak, to work through whatever nightmare is replaying in her head.

Her wrists are marked, as if someone grabbed her roughly, and I reach for her torn shirt, pulling it up gently to cover her shoulder. My insides are lava.

“I don’t know where to start.” She sniffles and her eyes fill with tears again. “You’re not going to like this because I lied to you.”

I let that land without any reaction. I don’t give a shit that she lied to me. I just want to know what happened. I cup her knee, squeezing it gently. “I don’t care what you’ve done. I just need you to tell me what’s going on, so I can fix it.”

She lets out a broken sob. “I thought I could handle it. I tried, but I didn’t expect this to happen.

At first it was so subtle I thought I was imagining it.

A little brush over my arm that lasted too long, a hand on my waist as he passed, just a casual touch.

” My teeth lock together. I force my silence because I need to know exactly what happened before I react.

“And it kept happening. Any time he passed me he touched me like that. I should have reported it. I should have told someone, but he made it so I couldn’t. ”

“The write-ups.” The words squeeze out between my teeth.

She nods. “If I’d have accused him at that point, they would have said I was retaliating. So I couldn’t say anything. I wanted to tell you so many times, but I was scared what you’d do. And I didn’t want to lose my job. I couldn’t eat or sleep. Every time I had to work, it made me feel sick.”

My body is wired tight, like a band about to snap. My anger is bubbling, not at her, never at her.

Lexi, my beautiful wife—she’s always had a streak of independence, a need to hold up the world alone.

That ends now.

She’s never walking into anything like this ever again.

“I was uploading some files to the server. They were taking forever. I didn’t realize everybody had left.

I went into the break room to grab some water and he was…

there .” She closes her eyes, wrapping her arms around her belly.

“He wouldn’t let me leave. He touched my bump and I freaked.

I think I hit him. I can’t remember. Everything is a blur.

” She rubs her temple, her eyes scrunched tight.

My vision is white. My breath loud in my ears.

“I was so scared. I thought he was going to?—”

She covers her mouth, holding back a sob, and I tug her into my arms, our baby between us. Every inch of my body is vibrating. I can taste the blood in my mouth, feel it on my hands and how it’s going to coat my fingers.

“Who, Lexi?”

“James.”

My body turns to stone, an unnatural calm sweeping over me. Her asshole boss—the guy who’s been making her life hell. He’s been touching her, making her uncomfortable at work? He’s the reason she ain’t eating? Ain’t sleeping?

Everything is starting to make sense, and fuck, I wish it wouldn’t.

My throat feels hot, and there’s pressure building behind my eyes as the air becomes thick.

Her hand flies to her mouth. “I’m gonna puke.”

I grab the trashcan behind me, shoving it under her as she lurches forward, and vomits like she’s trying to purge herself of the violation.

I hold her hair back as she throws up every single thing in her stomach, her body trembling violently.

“I got you. Just let it all out, baby.”

“I’m sorry.”

I sit her back, taking the can from her, and grab tissues from my desk drawer. There’s a bottle of water sitting half empty that I snag too.

I’m decimating cities in my mind, burning down whole family lines as I wipe her face with a gentle calm I don’t feel.

I settle my palm over her stomach, feeling our daughter press against my hand. He did this to my wife, to my unborn child, and I’m going to rip his spine out of his body and feed it back to him.

“I’ll have Nitro come sit with you.” My tone is glacial, calculated. I’m not Casey right now, but Preacher—a man with blood already coating my soul.

I’ve killed a lot of people over the years but no death will ever be as satisfying as this asshole.

Lexi grabs my wrist as I stand, her eyes wild and wet. I brace, expecting her to beg me not to go.

But I can’t promise her that. I won’t. That son of a bitch is going to regret touching her.

“Casey… Please… Make it hurt,” she whispers, her throat bobbing.

Fuck, this woman. My amazing, strong wife.

I bend and kiss the top of her head. “I’ll be back soon. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

I pause at the door, instinct urging me to stay. But I have to take care of this. For her.

Nitro and Chopper are waiting outside the room. They push off the wall as I shut the door behind me, brows tight, worry etched into their faces.

“What the fuck happened, Preacher?” Nitro asks.

I shake my head, dropping my hands on my hips. “You find anything out about the guy I asked you to look into?”

He shrugs. “Guy’s so fucking clean it’s unnatural. Never had a parking ticket, no run-ins with the law. I couldn’t find shit.”

“He assaulted her.” Those words taste wrong on my tongue. “The prick’s been touching her for weeks, making her feel uncomfortable.”

Nitro’s jaw gets tight. Chopper’s eyes darken as he stares at the closed door, like he’s trying to give Lexi support through the wood.

“We riding out?” Nitro cracks his knuckles, ready to throw down for one of our own.

My adrenaline soars.

This is what it means to be in a club, to have brothers who have your back. She may not wear a cut, but she’s still ours.

And we ride for what’s ours.

We fight.

“I need you to stay with her,” I say to Nitro. She trusts him, loves him like family. She’ll feel safe with him.

He looks surprised and disappointed. I get it. He wanted to be involved in this.

“Prez?”

“I need his address.”

Nitro pulls out his phone and sends the address to me. I read it twice, committing it to memory before I put my phone away.

My hands are shaking, my rage thrumming through me.

Chopper studies me, like he’s waiting for an eruption, but I keep it locked down. This anger is all for him. “Prez, you sure you don’t want back up?”

“No.” I turn to Nitro. “Keep her safe until I get back.”

His fists clench, but he nods. He knows what this is. Understands this is something a man has to do alone.

“Always,” he says.

“Goes without saying,” Chopper adds.

My nod is curt before I head out to my bike. I’m moving mostly by muscle memory. My brain is so full of death I can’t think of anything else. I’m imagining how I’m going to hurt that fucker. The ways I’ll torture him until he’s crying for mercy I won’t deliver.

I’ll make him scream until the vision of my wife hurt, holding her belly is erased from my mind. And then I’ll hurt him more just so he knows he fucked up touching what’s mine.

By the time I reach his building, my vision is tinted red and my hands are itching to commit violence.

Everything about this fuck’s life is bland. Shit fig trees line the lobby, designed to look chic and modern. That jumped up prick probably thinks this is what success looks like.

My boots are loud on the tile floor, and a woman shrinks back, disappearing into the shadows as I wait for the elevator.

When the doors slide open, the people inside scurry past me like they’re facing a monster.

I’m only dangerous to those who cross me.

I slip inside, hitting the button for his floor and I watch the numbers climb.

When I step out into the hallway, it’s quiet. Good. I don’t need an audience for what I’m about to do.

I knock on his front door, moving so he can’t see me through the peephole and the moment the door opens just a crack, I strike.

I shove inside, ignoring the way he squeals as I fill his hallway and kick the door shut behind me.

I can smell his fucking fear as he backpedals, trying to put some distance between us, but there’s nowhere he can run. I won’t allow it.

Not until he’s paid for what he did.

I use my bulk to back him into the living room, my eyes never leaving his. There are gouges down his cheek—fingernail marks—and a bruise forming on his jaw. Pride swells inside me.

Lexi fought for herself and for our baby.

“You can’t be here. I’ll call the police.” He pulls out his phone with trembling hands, hands that touched my wife. I snatch his phone out of his hands, tossing it across the room.

“You put your hands on my ol’ lady.” I step closer, and his chest heaves in terror. Good. I hope he feels the same level of terror she did.

“She assaulted me. She was pissed about the write up?—”

I don’t let him finish speaking. I crack my hand across his face, open palm, like the little bitch he is.

He stumbles so hard he collides with a sideboard, knocking everything off it.

His hand flies up to cradle his cheek, which is already reddening beneath his palm.

“That’s for touching her,” I growl the word between clenched teeth.

Then I slam my fist into his jaw. His head snaps to the side, blood spraying out of his mouth.

Weak ass bastard whimpers, crying and pleading with me.

I ignore every sound out of his fucking mouth before I drive my fist into his gut.

He folds in half, gasping and choking before he falls to his knees. He wheezes like I stole all the air from his lungs.

“And that is for putting your hands on my pregnant wife’s stomach.”

I crouch down in front of him, grabbing him by the front of his shirt. I’ve killed a lot of men over the years, seen many reactions to fear, but his gives me the most satisfaction.

He looks two seconds from pissing his pants.

“Please.”

I sneer at him. “Did she beg you too? Plead with you not to harm her, plead for our unborn baby?” I back hand him across the mouth, blood spraying as he crumbles onto the floor.

He lies still, his knees drawn up to his chest as he whimpers pathetically.

“You thought you could touch what was mine and walk away?” I hiss. “Nah. You don’t get to walk from this. I’m going to bury you so deep they’ll never find your bones.”

He’s crying now, as if he thinks that’s going to save his ass. It won’t. When I stand, he grabs the leg of my jeans, sliding up onto his knees. “Please. Don’t kill me. I’m sorry for what I did. Just don’t kill me.”

I kick my boot to his chest and shove him back. He doesn’t get up this time. “You ever breathe near her again and I swear I will break every bone in your fuckin’ body.”

Drawing my foot back, I slam it into his side, over and over until he stops moving. Then I spit on him. “Enjoy pissing blood for the next two weeks, you piece of fuckin’ shit.”

Then I walk out without another word, leaving him curled in a pile on his floor.