Page 54 of Her Wicked Husband (The Huxleys #2)
Bryce
Seedy isn’t enough to describe the dilapidated motel. The area reeks of pot, urine and food about to go bad. The blaring of TVs and music and every argument of occupants can be heard through the wafer-thin walls and doors.
Where did Aaron and Jude take Fiona? I don’t see a car that looks like it would belong to either of them. The lot only contains vehicles that saw better days a decade ago.
A man reeking of alcohol stumbles toward me. “Hey, spare a little change?”
I get my wallet out. “I’m looking for a woman and two guys. All around thirty. They just checked in here, I think.”
The man shrugs and looks away. “I dunno… Lotsa young folks around…”
I pull a hundred-dollar bill out. “Try to remember. The girl has reddish-brown hair…”
His eyes light on the money. “Oh, that stoned chick? Pretty girl? And the guys are tall, right? Lanky blond and… I can’t remember the other guy. Sort of hard to see from where—”
“That’s them.” I lean in, but keep the bill out of reach. “Where did they go? ”
He points to a unit on the second floor. “That one. Fourth from the end.” I give him the money and he shuffles off.
Pumping my arms, I run upstairs. My grip on the cane tightens. The wolf’s head glints under the SoCal sun.
I stop in front of the room and kick hard. The door holds. I kick it again. Fuck. For a shitty motel, they sure have a sturdy door.
I think I hear somebody yell, “Help,” but can’t be sure with all the noise around me and my own racing heartbeat.
Fiona, I’m here!
Aaron and Jude couldn’t have brought her to this place for anything pleasant. Fury and panic send another surge of adrenaline rushing through me. I kick again with all my might, praying my wife’s okay, that I’m not too late.
The door gives in with a splintering crash. I rush inside, and my vision turns red. Jude is sitting on Fiona, pressing a pillow over her face. “Shit,” he says, his voice weirdly muffled from a swollen nose and blood.
Good girl . Pride surges at the damage my wife must’ve inflicted on him. I swing the cane.
The wolf’s snarling snout smashes the back of Jude’s head.
He crumbles as red blooms on his skull and soaks his hair.
Aaron rushes toward me, his fists raised awkwardly like a poorly trained boxer.
I slash the cane across his face, breaking his nose and taking off a wide layer of skin.
He drops like a rock, his scream muffled against his hands as he cradles his face.
“Fiona, baby. I’m here.”
I yank away the pillow. My hands shake when I see it’s soaked with blood—all of it Fiona’s.
“I’m here. I’m here. Let me cover you, okay? You’re safe.” I rip off my jacket and place it over her torn blouse, then cradle her face carefully to avoid touching her injuries.
She blinks up at me. Her left cheek has swollen until it looks twice as big as the other side. A killing rage swells, but first things first. I help her sit up and undo the knots around her wrists.
“You fucker!” Jude says from behind me, his breathing uneven and rough. “I’m bleeding.”
I put a hand over Fiona’s eyes. “It isn’t going to be pretty. ”
“No,” she rasps. “I want to see them get punished. I want justice .”
She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I stand up and spin around.
Jude sways on his feet a little, but raises his hands and makes fists. He smirks. “What’s it like to see me break your toy again?”
I want to break your face . “She’s not a toy, and you didn’t break her. You’re too weak,” I say contemptuously. “I’ve always wanted to do more than make you bleed.”
I raise the cane and bring it down hard on his shoulder. He screams. Aaron comes at me, and I backhand his cheek. He spits out a couple of teeth.
Seeing them in pain doesn’t lessen my rage. I want to see them worse than dead. The wolf’s head continues to slam into them, one hit after another, until the silver’s covered with so much blood that it no longer glints.
Somewhere, sirens wail. A few moments later, the police rush in with guns. “Freeze! Drop your weapon!”
I let go of the cane and raise my hands. Josh runs inside. “He’s the husband!” he shouts to the officers. “Those are the kidnappers.” He points to Jude and Aaron lying on the ground, unconscious, then hands his business card to an officer and whispers something.
My twin turns to my wife. “Fiona—”
“Needs to go to the hospital.” She’s on the bed, my jacket wrapped around her and eyes unblinking and focused. “Sweetheart, I’m going to take you to the hospital, okay?” I say in the tenderest voice I can manage.
“Are they going to prison forever?” she asks, tilting her chin at Jude and Aaron.
“I’ll do my best,” I say, even though I’m certain they won’t.
They’ll be prosecuted, but their defense attorneys will claim they didn’t really do enough to be locked up for life.
But there are other ways, dark methods that my wife should never know about.
I gaze into her beautiful eyes. They should only see beautiful things. “I promise.”
“I believe you,” she says quietly.
“Good. Can we go to the hospital now?”
She nods. “Okay. ”
I pick her up and cradle her close as she slumps. The shock of the day must’ve been too much for her system to bear. I nod at the officer who took Josh’s card. “I’ll give you my statement as soon as my wife’s taken care of.” Then I give Josh a cool look. “And you also—later.”
It’s not a farewell—it’s a promise.