Page 27 of The Tycoon (The Douglas Brothers #1)

sutton

My blood pressure is skyrocketing; something is very wrong. I feel it within the marrow of my bones. I’ve never experienced this type of desperation before in my life. My gut is telling me I need to get to her, that I must protect her. Come hell or high water, that is exactly what I’m going to do.

Clenching my jaw to the point of pain, I listen as my phone tries to connect to Dolly’s through the speakers of my truck.

To my dismay, it sends me to her voicemail once again.

Hearing her sweet, recorded voice, I slap the ‘end’ button on my steering wheel.

Shouting a sharp expletive, I pound my dashboard with my closed fist.

This is the twenty-fifth time I’ve attempted to reach her since leaving my condo. I keep calling and calling, praying she will pick up the Goddamn phone. The only reason why I’m not having a full-blown meltdown right this very second is because I’m only a mile away.

I was dumbfounded, and outraged, when I realized she wasn’t where she should have been.

I came home early, lollipop ring in hand, fully expecting to find her in bed waiting for me.

I can’t tell you the level of panic that gripped me as I searched every nook and cranny of my damn condo.

Thank God I turned on ‘location sharing’ on her phone before I left for my “business trip.” I checked it before I took off from San Antonio and she was there, safe and sound at six-thirty.

I have no idea what would compel her to go back to her old apartment, but I know whatever it is isn’t good.

Growling low, I yank my steering wheel and turn into Dolly’s apartment complex.

Speeding through the packed parking lot, I pay no mind to the young punk giving me the middle finger as I round the corner towards her building.

There aren’t any open parking spaces, so I make one for myself.

Popping the curb, I park my truck right on the cracked sidewalk.

I doubt anyone will care, this is the type of complex where everyone looks the other way.

Minus the punk, I guess. But he had a bag of white powder in his hand, I can almost guarantee he won’t say a damn word.

Slapping the ignition button, I jump out of the truck and slam the door behind me.

Running full speed to her building, I blow through the unlocked main door.

As soon as I step inside, I hear a feminine voice shouting.

My heart plummets as my brain registers the sound of my love screaming “NO!” over and over.

Spanning the space to her apartment door within seconds, I ram my shoulder against the flimsy piece of wood, somehow forcing it open without breaking it in half. As soon as I enter the apartment, I’m met by the terrified voice of my Dolly.

“NO! STOP SAM! PLEASE! I DON’T WANT THIS!”

“DOLLY?!” I yell.

Sprinting towards the living room, I physically bristle.

What I stumble upon engulfs me in a primal rage that turns my vision crimson.

Sam is on top of her, holding her down with one hand and forcing her naked legs wide with the other.

Tears stream down her face, she’s screaming and pleading for him to stop.

Her expression is seized in hopelessness as the son-of-a-bitch tries to guide his cock inside her.

Roaring the breath from my lungs, I lunge at him with all my weight.

Like a possessed animal, I grab onto his shoulders.

Tearing him off Dolly, I barely miss the coffee table when I throw him onto the floor.

Hovering above him, I attack before he has a chance to move.

Making sure he looks at me, I lift my foot and stomp on his erect dick and balls with the sharp heel of my cowboy boot.

“YOU GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKER!” I scream, crushing his pathetic manhood.

My boot comes down over and over, until I see his crushed testicles hanging from his split scrotum.

He lets out a high-pitched scream, trying desperately to roll away like the coward he is.

I can’t make out the words he begins to yell, but I’m sure he’s begging for me to stop and spare his pathetic life.

Too bad for him, I will be doing neither.

Jumping onto his prone body, I straddle his heaving torso. Wanting to be as cruel as possible, I tap into my beast’s bloodlust. Balling my hand into a tight fist, I use his cocksucking, motherfucking face as my personal punching bag.

“I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!” I hiss through gritted teeth.

Sam doesn’t respond. Not that I expect him to.

Dolly whimpers behind me but doesn’t try to stop me.

Knowing I need to focus purely on Sam, I don’t dare look at her.

Squeezing my fist, my brutal attack continues. Aroused by the melody of his facial bones breaking, I snarl like a demon as I take my pound of flesh. My own knuckles split in the process after breaking his jaw, but I am too encased in my rage to register my own pain.

Sam gargles on his blood, most likely choking on his broken teeth as I send them down his throat. His body twitches pathetically with every punch. I almost laugh at how easily he succumbs under my fist. He’s making this far too easy. Perhaps I shouldn’t have crushed his dick right away.

No. The bitch deserved that.

Locking his bloodshot eyes to mine, I allow him to stare as I make a mess of his once objectively handsome face.

Not wanting, or willing, to ease my anger, I lose all track of time as I carry out his punishment.

Eventually, I see the light in his eyes dim.

Much like they did behind the alley. Only this time, it’s for good.

Stopping my fist midair, I spit a line of heated curses. Breathing hard from my physical exertion, I command my beast back into the depths from which it came. Closing my eyes, I selfishly savor the euphoria of the kill before turning to Dolly.

Curled up on the couch facing me, she rocks herself as she whimpers.

Naked from the waist down, I notice she’s wearing my workout shirt.

It’s torn down the middle, leaving her exposed.

The cups of her lace bra are pulled under her breasts, the underwires have popped through the material and are pressing into her skin.

Her physical disarray is nothing in comparison to her emotional state. Sam might not have raped her with his micro dick, but he has victimized her in the most brutal way. He has left an indelible mark that will be with her for the rest of her life.

My only regret is that I can’t kill him again.

Seeing my Dolly look so small, so broken, rips me completely apart.

What’s worse is that I’m worried that I will only victimize her further.

There’s no way for me to dance around what just happened or what will happen.

I can’t smooth all of this over with my charm and my money.

God. I hope she will forgive me and continue to love me.

I will get her whatever help she needs; I just need her to stay with me.

Using the hem of Sam’s graphic tee as my napkin, I wipe his blood from my hands.

Refocusing my attention on my love, I approach her as if she was a wounded animal.

Kneeling in front of her, I move my face into her line of vision.

She doesn’t see me at first, there’s a faraway look behind her beautiful sky-blue eyes.

She’s hiding in whatever safe place she has concocted in that capable brain of hers.

My fingers move to brush her cheek, my touch wiping the rest of her tears from her flushed skin. Knowing she needs comfort to coax her from her dream, I hum the sweet lullaby that I have been humming every night to her once she has fallen asleep.

She still doesn’t respond to me, but I continue humming.

Smoothing her hair away from her face, my hand travels down to her chest. I wish I could cut the damn bra from her, but I don’t have the time to search for scissors right now.

I try my best to ease the wires back into the fabric.

Once they are no longer stabbing her, I slowly pull the lace to cover her breasts.

I try to be as gentle as possible, but I end up jostling her a little too much.

She pops back to the present with a desperate yell.

“NO! NO!”

Pulling my hands back, I soften my features as much as possible. I begin to shush her, not to keep her quiet, but to try to make her realize she isn’t in danger.

She blinks at me; I watch the gears of her mind as they start to whirl. Gasping for breath, she pulls her body up to sit on the couch.

“Sutton? What…what…where’s…Sam,” she breathes.

Nodding my head, I boldly cup the sides of her face. To my relief, she allows me to touch her.

“He won’t hurt you, Princess. He won’t hurt you ever again, I’ve made sure of it,” I reply.

Staring at me with wide eyes, she breathes hard as her mind no doubt tries to piece together what she has just been through.

“Where is he?” she asks, her voice not more than a whisper.

Pushing out a sigh, I debate for a split second on whether I should tell her the truth. But I suppose I must, she’s going to see his bloodied body as soon as I move.

“Dolly. My sweet Dolly…before I tell you, I need you to listen to me. I need you to listen to everything that I’m about to tell you. Really listen, ok? Can you do that for me, Princess?”

Nodding her head, she slows her breathing. Knowing that she’s actively trying to calm herself fills me with pride. I know she doesn’t believe it, but she truly is a strong woman. She can make it through this, I know she can.

“That’s my good girl,” I praise, caressing her cheeks with the pads of my thumbs. “I’m going to be blunt about this, this is going to be like ripping off a bandage. Sam is behind me, lying on the floor. Sam is dead. I have killed him.”

A sharp gasp leaves her lips, she tries to shake her face from my hands. I resist for a moment, but ultimately let them fall away, knowing she needs some type of agency right now.

“What? You…you killed him?” she squeaks incredulously.