Page 127 of Ruthless Beasts

When she didn't move, I raised my voice. "NOW."

She swallowed, then rushed forward, searching the ground for the knife and taking it in her hand. Her fingers trembled as her big eyes looked up at me. "I-I don't know where to cut."

"The back. One slice should release me. Cut the rope close to my neck," I ordered, and she stepped around me. I tried to talk to her, keep her with me as she sawed at the bondage, my eyes on Belle the whole time. "You did well."

"I- Lady came to me with a knife in her shoulder. I-I figured something was wrong."

What a good girl. I'd have to give the pup some extra treats when no one was looking. "Who taught you to shoot?"

"I-I had to learn. For work."

There was a story there, but I wasn't sure if this was the time to address it. I looked down at my wife. "Belle. Stay with me."

Belle swallowed and nodded, but I could tell she was fading. She gave up on crawling the few feet toward me and instead opted to rest her head against the grass. As calmly as I could,I tilted my head toward Hannah. "I need you to call for an ambulance. Speakerphone it and I'll talk while you work on the ropes."

I hated to admit it, hated the thought, but I was so fucking worried.

Hannah paused her work and dialed, holding the phone out to me with one hand while using the other to cut the rope. It was slower work, and I was okay with that. I didn't have seconds to spare when it came to my wife and her health. When the operator answered, I gave them the address, wishing the wind wasn’t so bad so that I could put her on speakerphone. When the rope released, I slumped to the ground before I crawled toward Belle.

I pulled her into my lap, turning her so she was facing me, and cradled in my arms. Her eyes fluttered. I lifted my hand; the blood was everywhere. "Where does it hurt? Where are you bleeding?"

I couldn't fucking tell. She didn't answer. "Belle!" I shouted. "Where?"

My biggest fear in life was watching my wife die again, losing her and my child because of a man who wanted to punish me. I couldn't do it again. Couldn't live through another funeral. Another goodbye. I wasn't a strong man after all, and I could admit that. I could admit that my great weakness was also my only strength. My wife. My family. And without them, I was worthless.

My fingers floated over her body, but there was just so much blood, and even though I knew — I fucking knew in my heart — I didn't want to acknowledge it. Instead, I held her tightly, plastering her to my chest and rocking her, not caring that the surrounding storm raged on as I waited for help to arrive.

I just hoped that when they did, it wouldn't be too late.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

ACE

As we turned into our driveway, red and blue lights flashed, illuminating our yard, and instantly, I felt sick. Police cars, ambulances, and fire trucks were littered everywhere. Her name was a whisper as it left my lips. "Belle."

"Adam's not answering his phone." Mercer tossed his cell into the center console and swallowed hard, his face tight as his fingers gripped the steering wheel.

"I don't imagine he would," Mimi mumbled, and when I looked back, her face was plastered against the glass.

"Mimi, I want you to stay in the car, okay?" I'd never once in my life ordered her, and I just hoped she listened.

She must have gauged the severity of the situation because she didn't argue. "I will."

We parked on the grass, barely having the engine cut before we jumped out. Minus a few police by the door, all the activity seemed to be in the back of the house, so that was where we went. When we were out of earshot of Mimi, Mercer spoke. "It was a set up."

I realized that now. I didn't have the best of feelings about this. In fact, everything in my very soul told me to turn around because I couldn't see whatever it was back there. I didn't want to. Still, I walked forward. I started to speak, started to tell my best friend that I didn't know if I could go through with this. That whatever was in our garden, I couldn't handle, when a voice barked at us.

"You can’t come back here."

"We live here," Mercer argued as a cop blocked us.

"There is a body, and we can't have you on scene." The cop interfered with our movements.

A body. I hadn't realized how nervous I was until I raised my hand to wipe the rain from my face and my hand shook with uncontrolled nerves. "Who?"

"I can't release that information."

"This is my home. And until I know my family is safe, I'm not moving a single inch back toward the front of the house." Mercer, luckily, was more level-headed than I was.

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