Page 121 of Ruthless Beasts

"Please," I begged.

He used his full weight to lie against me, his hard length rubbing against the bare skin of my ass where Mercer's shirt had risen to my back. A hand cupped between my legs and a sob escaped me. His fingers touching me so intimately made my stomach roll. But when he removed his hand and grabbed my thigh, fighting against my resistance the entire way to spread my legs, forcing them open with his own thigh, I died a little inside.

"Don't fight me. This is owed to me. My son promised me this."

"Your son was weak," I choked out against the hysterical sob that was working its way through my body.

I didn't see the blow coming. Not when it hit me from behind. The butt of his gun radiated off my skull, forcing me to slump forward, my body going nearly limp. But I couldn't allow myself to surrender. Even with my cheek pressed against the cool pavement and my body shaking with the pain it took to remain conscious. If I let it take me, if I let the blackness consume me, I'd let him win.

He could not win.

I wouldn't allow it.

He'd already taken so much from me, and I refused for my body to be added to that list.

I kicked back, hitting his thigh, throwing him off balance. When his body fell to the side, I used it as my chance to get out from under him. I stumbled to my feet, trying to run away even as I struggled to get my feet under me. I had nowhere to go, but maybe over the edge. Still, over the edge was almost a better option than the life I'd live under this man’s thumb, losing my body to the filth of his.

I pushed forward, my finger grazing the roughness of the rail before fingers gripped my ankle, pulling me back to the ground. He pulled himself to his full height above me, standing tall as his foot landed on my back, grinding into my spine and pressing my stomach into the floor. I cried out involuntarily, tears mixing with raindrops as pain consumed me.

"You'll never escape me." He laughed. "You're mine. All fucking parts of you. You know it now, and soon that cunt will, too. Say it."

I can't. I couldn't. I'd never belong to this man. This monster. "No."

"Not the meek woman you once were at the altar, are you, little Belle?"

I swallowed hard, hardly able to get words out. "I was never weak."

"You will be when I'm through." He leaned down, hovering close to my ears. "I'll make sure of that."

His laugh radiated into the night as he stood, straightening his back, before someone rammed into him from behind, sailing them both over the balcony and into the muddy ground below.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

ADAM

The rain rolled viciously outside my window, but for once, my mind wasn't present enough to enjoy it. I glanced at my phone what seemed to be every thirty seconds, waiting for a text or a call from Mercer letting me know the status of the donut shop. The place would be uninhabitable; that much was clear. But the cause? Electrical fire? Something deep down wasn't sitting right with that.

My fingers tapped against the oak desk as thunder clapped outside. My nerves were shot. I was getting too damn old for the stress of this, which was insane, considering I still had some years before I even hit my forties. But maybe Ace was right. This wasn't the life I wanted to grow my family in. I wanted to show them honor and respect. Not the ways of illegal affairs and taking anything you want. I wanted to be better. I wanted to be what Belle deserved.

Another clap of thunder and I paused. For a moment, I thought I heard something, but Belle was sleeping and no one else was home. My ears strained against the storm blazingoutside, fighting against the creaks of the house settling, as I listened. But silence met me as my imagination toyed with my paranoia.

I picked up my paperwork, shuffling it about as I tried to concentrate. It was useless, I knew. After a day like today, when everything seemed so perfect, my gut told me that the pin would drop, that something would destroy that happiness I worked so hard to gain. Sometimes, it is our own thoughts and self-doubt that are our greatest enemies. The blocks we create, the problems we cause ourselves in the grand scheme of life, they are absolutely nothing compared to what matters. Family. Life. Love.

The thunder rolled again, and this time, I swore I heard a scream. I shot to my feet faster than I would have thought possible, my feet already carrying me through the door and down the long hall, out of the west wing. Exiting the hall, the house was silent. Too silent. Like every heart that beat had suddenly stilled. I stepped slowly, aware of every sound, feeling every vibration pass through my body.

The thump upstairs had me pausing. Belle. She was up there. The only one up there. Passing through the foyer, I paused at the open door. Walking closer, my shoes hit the sticky puddle of blood that pooled from the outside and flowed inside. I swallowed hard, opening the door, meeting the blank lifeless gazes of my two staff members. My palms instantly grew clammy. The meaning of this was all too clear.

Reaching back, I grabbed the gun from the small of my back, taking the slightest comfort in the metal's weight in my palm, the cool smoothness against my rough skin. It was a familiar comfort, a weapon I knew how to use effortlessly, and now, I could only hope it was the defense I needed to protect my wife.

My steps were slowly leading up the stairs, the blood that clung to my shoes leaving sticky prints, showing all who entered the pathway to destruction.

My destruction.

Our destruction.

His destruction.

At the top of the landing, I paused, straining my ears, listening for any sound, any sign, anything to let me know where my wife was. Was she still in bed? I hoped so, but that was a naïve hope. I knew it the second the thought crossed my mind, then I heard her scream from the library. My Belle never stood in one place long, and it was clear tonight wasn’t an exception.

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