Page 65 of Waiting For A Girl Like You (Haven House #4)

M ichael proceeded down the hall after Kristina returned safely to her room, and the further they went, the more the man he’d been in her presence—the brother, the protector—faded. What remained was the cold villain Jamison had come to expect.

Bruce went ahead when two men intercepted them in the hallway, both dressed in similar attire to Michael. “If you’ve no further need for us, we’d like to head out,” the stockier one said in a low voice. “My hands are dirty enough, and these people feel like grit under the nails.”

“Gentlemen, you have my thanks,” Michael replied sincerely.

“Please be discreet when you leave. Smitty and Paul are at the gate. They’ll let you out, but know that it’s a ten-mile hike before you reach any town.

A second option would be to bypass the gate altogether and take the two miles to the other side of the lake.

There’s a small road there. Head west, and you’ll reach civilization in about eighteen miles. ”

“Is there a back door here?” the second man asked. “The less interactions, the better.”

The men didn’t acknowledge her, making Jamison wonder how many defenseless women they had seen Michael Sinclair carry around during their service to him.

“There’s one in the kitchen and another in the lower study that leads to a patio.”

“Got it.” The men moved around them to leave. “And when can we expect you at the rendezvous point? ”

She felt it. Something in Michael Sinclair shifted, squeezing him tight on the inside. “Bruce, Kris, and Colton should be on their way in less than twenty-four hours,” he replied with his back to his men. “Smitty and Paul, not long after. I’ll follow when I can.”

“And then onward to the point of no return?”

Michael continued walking. “That’s the plan.”

He couldn’t even look them in the eye. Jamison grappled with the information. Those two men were individuals who served his dark deeds, and Michael Sinclair couldn’t even look them in the eye as they left.

She thumped him again, and he finally glanced at her. “I said I’d explain, and I will.”

The words came out on an exhale, surprising her even more. He was tired. Michael Sinclair was tired, and squinting at him, she could see the lines of strain stamped upon his face.

But any exhaustion that had been there was erased as they came to a stop. “Emmett, I told you that you didn’t need to station yourself outside the door.”

“I want to help,” Emmett whined. “I don’t want those freaks near Emily.”

“Just because Taylor said you could have her first doesn’t mean you’ll be the only one,” Michael informed him. “You need to accept that fact.”

Jamison tried to roll her head to see Emmett’s response but could only make out his hazy shape standing with the two women who were following them everywhere. More than the others, they were the most annoying. Silent and eerily still, Jamison wanted to scream at them to speak.

“Once she has me, she won’t want anyone else, and will get pregnant without a problem.”

Michael pressed his lips together before responding. “Yeah, that’s not how biology works, Emmett.”

“It will with me,” Emmett snapped. “Emily is meant to be mine.”

“Watch your fucking tone.”

Emmett’s head dropped, his gaze lowering to the floor. “Yes, sir.”

“I don’t have time to sit here and explain the female reproduction system to you, so get the fuck out of my way and go downstairs,” Michael spat out. “If you want to make yourself useful, see that Madison makes it to bed, and tell those assholes down there to turn the music off. ”

“Yes, sir.” Emmett stalled, risking a glance at Michael. “But can I see her for a second?”

Michael’s lips curved. “You know what? That sounds like a plan. You go first.”

Shifting to the side, Michael let Bruce slide by as he joined them while Emmett unlocked the door.

“Juice kick in yet?” Michael asked Bruce under his breath.

Bruce shook his head. “Nope, and she’s loose. So is Emily.”

“Did you give Emily anything?”

“Negative.”

“Good.” Michael grinned. “Let her get a few licks in before breaking it up.”

An animalistic screech rang out as the door opened, and when Emmett entered the bedroom, it sounded like he was being tackled up against a wall. “Baby, please don’t be like this,” he cried. “I just want to talk!”

Bruce and Michael hung back, listening to the sound of flesh pounding flesh and Emmett’s grunts of pain. The screeching turned into a rage fueled feminine cry, with Jamison recognizing Emily’s voice as she screamed. “I will fucking kill you!”

A handful of heartbeats passed, each thump of Emily’s fists driving her panic higher. Jamison squirmed or tried to, wanting to get inside the room to see her cousin.

“That’s enough,” Michael ordered, and Bruce immediately entered. Following him, Michael carried her through the door and straight into a nightmare. “Easy, Em. We’re just bringing your cousin in for a visit.”

Dizzy from being spun around, Jamison attempted to absorb the details of the room.

There was a double-sized bed against the wall with a large man strapped to it.

His dark head was turned away from them, but on the opposite side of the room, two twin mattresses were on the ground, and an animal crate was in the far corner.

The only other thing she could see was a dresser and mirror set next to a small bathroom with the light left on. Various pillows and blankets were strewn about like Emily had been wrapped in them before she attacked Emmett.

Not acknowledging Michael or anyone else, Emily continued pummeling Emmett. Claudia stood off to the side, her arms crossed and a smile on her face. She watched with glee as her sister unleashed a fury so savage that it echoed through the halls of the wannabe Haven House.

But just when the beating had gone on for suspiciously too long, Emmett gained control of the situation. Lunging at Emily, he flipped her onto the hardwood. Her head hit with a sickening crack, and she went quiet.

“I told you to behave, Claudia,” Bruce shouted when Claudia jumped in to help. “God dammit.”

Emily could be considered vicious on a good day. Around the office, most employees kept their distance, terrified of her sharp tongue and explosive temper. But for all her rage, she was still a tiny woman. Small and lean, she didn’t have much in the way of physical power.

Claudia was another story.

She had the height that came with the Fairweather bloodline.

Taller than even Jamison, she stood at nearly six feet and possessed a powerhouse punch matching her bad attitude.

Coming up behind Emmett, Claudia plowed her fist into his neck and head, a rapid succession of strikes that had the man squealing like a stuck pig.

Bruce waited nearly a full minute while Claudia wailed on the small man, and in Jamison’s confused state, she began to grasp that Bruce and Michael wanted Emmett to get hurt.

“Come on now,” Bruce said softly to a crying Claudia after she had Emmett off her sister. Taking her by the shoulders, he gently guided her to one of the twin mattresses. “Calm down.”

From her angle, Jamison couldn’t see Claudia’s face, but she could hear the raw panic in her voice. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please don’t hurt Madison. Let me see her. Please.”

“Easy, Mama Bear. Sit on your mattress.” Bruce continued to talk in a kind voice. “Emily, off the floor and onto your mattress. You know the rules.”

Jamison heard Emily crawling heavily across the floor as Emmett rose to stand. “Why do you hate me, Em? I just want to love you.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Michael warned, then swung around and dropped Jamison unceremoniously on the bed next to the person strapped to its frame. “We’ll take it from here.”

Jamison flopped to her side, immediately recognizing the man chained to the bedpost. He had the same dark hair and jawline as her father, a trait she’d heard annoyed his parents.

Trevor and Heather hated that their only son looked so much like the man who not only held their purse strings, but also the future of Fairweather Holdings.

“Damon?”

His name came out slower than normal, almost as if her tongue was too big for her mouth. She could tell he was breathing since he was lying flat on his back, but there was no recognition or any other movement.

The two silent women came up behind her, placing their hands on her shoulder and hip. Their touch burned like it had in the van, making the blood in her veins boil in a heated rush. Whoever they were, Jamison wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of knowing they were hurting her.

“Damon, can you hear me?” She didn’t sound so drunk anymore and spoke louder. “It’s me, Jamison. I’m here with you.”

The women leaned over her to touch Damon next, his eyes fluttering at the first contact. Their hands massaged his chest in tandem, pressing over his heart as he started to thrash.

“Bruce, he’s coming out of it.” The women’s hands were replaced by Michael’s, and he moved to hold Damon down when his large body strained to break free of the restraints. “Those idiots probably forgot his nightly dose while we were busy.”

“He needs to wake up a little,” Emily said. “They didn’t feed him either.”

“These fucking idiots,” Michael muttered and then spoke a little louder to Damon. “Hey, big guy. Calm down. Emily and Claudia are safe. Madison’s safe. You’ll all be together tomorrow.”

Damon’s eyes flew open, and the absolute volcanic rage in them locked onto Michael. His cheeks puffed while he tried to control his breathing, and he bared his teeth.

“I know you’re mad, but we’re okay now,” Michael said, keeping his tone steady. “Look, Jamison is here to see you.”

Damon turned his head. When his eyes found hers, the breath in his lungs caught. “No,” he rasped. “No.”

“Yeah,” Michael said, patting his chest. “It’s about that time, big guy. I’m going to bring your girls in for dinner and a bath. Don’t fight them, okay? Bruce will hang out here while they work. Is that good? ”