Page 78 of Conjure

Wilfred’s sickening smile grows. He knows he’s got me by the balls, judging by the manic glint in his eyes.

“If you want her to live, I suggest you rein that anger in, boy. I’m not done yet.”

“I swear to God, if you touch her, I will chop off your fucking hands.”

Chuckling, he steps closer to her and makes a show of kneading her breasts. I look away, unable to control the putrid disgust that floods my veins. I hate feeling this fucking powerless. Hate how I can’t act on my instincts. He can taunt me now, but I will peel his skin off his body, remove his eyeballs, and cut out his tongue?—

My attention snaps back when Camryn chokes on a whimper that saws through my ribs.

“So smooth,” he says with a perverted smile as he trails his filthy fingers over her pussy. “I bet she’s tight.”

This time, when she whimpers, I explode into action, launching myself over the back of the couch and tackling Wilfred to the ground. A shot goes off, but I’m blinded by rage and the need to destroy. I lay into him with my fist while clutching his denim overalls. Punch after punch. I’m seething. Hell-bent on beating him to a bloody pulp. My arm aches, and my bloody knuckles sting. I don’t stop.

“Dominic!” Camryn tears me off him, palming my sweaty cheeks with her trembling hands. Her stricken eyes fly over my face, and I want nothing more than to ease the worry I see in her blue orbs, but I can barely catch my breath. “We need to leave.”

“He touched you.”

Her fingers pause on my scruff. “I’m okay.”

“He fucking touched you.”

“Dom…” She presses her soft lips to mine, her shaky breaths skating over my mouth. “It doesn’t matter. I’m fine. Can we please just leave?”

“Fuck,” I growl, nipping at her bottom lip and fisting her hair. “It matters. No one touches you. I’m going to cut off his fuckinghands for thinking he could—” I fall silent when I glance to the side, seeing the bloody floor.

Where did he go?

My grip on Camryn stiffens, and I whip my head from left and right, scanning the room. “What the hell?” I climb to my feet, clutching her to me protectively. She’s still naked except for her dirty tank top that’s halfway down her stomach. I help her pull it up to cover her breasts, my eyes skating across the room to ensure we’re alone.

With a final glance around, I quickly zip up my pants, walk over to the couch, and swipe up her shorts from the floor.

“Put them on,” I demand, striding up to her.

When she’s buttoning them up, I palm her cheek. “I need you to stay here.”

Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head.

Outside, a crow caws.

I wish I could wipe the fear from her eyes and replace it with a look reserved only for me.

“No,” she says, shaking her head almost fervently. “We need to leave.”

I caress her damp cheeks. “Listen to me. He’s still here. If we leave now, he’ll come after us. Maybe not today, but tomorrow or the week after.” Those big eyes stare at me, so I jostle her. “We can’t let him get away.”

“What are you saying?”

My jaw tightens, fingers twitching against her tear-streaked cheeks as I lean in and rest my forehead against hers. “We kill him.”

A sharp inhale racks her body.

Before she can open her mouth to reply, my lips meet hers—no tongue, just a hard press and a haunted groan. She drives me murderous. “He has to die.”

I tear myself away and stride out of the room.

“Dom,” she calls after me, but I ignore her pleading voice.

I need a weapon.