Page 41 of Captive Bride

"Adriana trusted you," I growled, dodging to the side, feeling the rush of air as his fist missed my face by inches.

“She’s sweet. I’m glad I only have to take care of you.”

“You’re not taking care of anything,” I replied. The words were barely out before I thrust forward again, using the momentum of my chair to force him against the wall. The impact rattled through my bones, but it bought me precious seconds as David grappled with the sudden shift.

"Resourceful," he acknowledged, pushing off the wall and launching a counterattack. But this time, I was ready. Ducking under his arm, I caught him off-guard with an uppercut that connected with his chin.

"Got to be," I panted, feeling every bruise and every ache, yet driven by a singular focus—to protect what was mine at all costs. Our breaths mingled in the charged air, sweat and determination clinging to us both.

"Enough, Tristan," David said, reassessing as we paused, each waiting for the other's next move. "You can't win."

"Watch me." It was a promise, a vow made with the ferocity of a man who had too much to lose. With a swift turn, I lurched forward, crashing the heavy frame of my wheelchair into his side. David grunted, the sound getting lost in the scuffle as wegrappled with each other, my hands finding his wrists, keeping them away from my throat.

"Give it up, Callahan," he spat, trying to leverage himself over me.

“Hey, fuck you, man.” I retorted, adrenaline surging through me as I delivered a sharp jab to his ribs, followed by a hook to his jaw that rocked his head to the side. And then, as if the universe itself had consigned to grant me victory, David faltered, his knees buckling beneath him.

He grabbed my shirt, dragged me along with him.

This was…really bad.

I had limited mobility and my chair had been helpful so far. I might have gotten a few punches in, but David was still in the game. And now I was outside of my chair, on the ground, nose pressed against the cold tile of my own home.

My heart pounded in my chest as he tried to shuffle onto me, his fingers scrabbling at my throat. But in this arena of desperation, I found an animalistic strength within me. Every fear, every torment fueled me, turning into raw energy that burst forth from deep within.

I clenched my fists and took aim at his face, delivering a flurry of blows - right hook, left jab, repeat.

David reeled back under the onslaught but didn't retreat. His eyes glinted with insubordination and fury. Then with a feral growl, he lunged for me once more.

But I wasn't allowing it. Not tonight. Not ever. My family's lives, their safety, hinged on this moment. With a roar that echoed the primal instinct to protect, I stopped him dead in his tracks with a hard punch straight to his nose.

There was a sickening crunch as David’s head snapped back. Blood burst from his nostrils like a broken dam, splattering across my knuckles and staining the pristine tile floor beneath us.

David’s hand shot up to his face, but it was too late. The damage had been done. This was the opening I had been fighting for, the moment of weakness I needed.

I kicked out hard with my left leg, driving my heel into his stomach with all the force I could muster. David gasped, doubling over as he tried to regain his breath.

I had limited use of my legs. This was fucking agony. Each kick made me practically double down with pain.

But the sight of David wavering, losing his ground, spurred me on. My family needed me. I needed to win.

I kept at it, fueled adrenaline and the thought of my family.

"One... more... time," I muttered, gritting through the pain. With an effort that stole my breath away, I kicked out again. This time my foot connected with a satisfying thud against his chest.

I needed to keep him down so I could kill him. I didn’t have any weapons on me, so I'd have to get creative. I gritted my teeth, sucking air into my lungs and finding a reservoir of strength in the image of Adriana, cradling our children at her breast.

"Screw you, Miller," I hissed through gritted teeth, the effort of every syllable laced with pain and determination. My foot shot out, aimed square for his face this time. There came an audible crack, a small grunt escaping David's lips as he fell backward onto the polished marble floor.

I dragged myself over to him, each pull of my arms sending specks of light flickering across my vision. But I couldn't afford to pass out. Not when there was still a threat in my house.

Reaching David, I lifted my hand and brought it crashing down onto his face. Then I did it again. And again. Each punch was more painful than the one before, but they were also more satisfying. They were for every sleepless night worrying about Adriana and the kids. They were for every life taken by his hand in service to some unknown boss, some unknown cause.

My knuckles split under the force of each hit, blood splattering across David's face until it was impossible to tell whose was whose. But it didn't matter; all that mattered was that he was no longer a threat.

I kept at it, my punches growing weaker but never faltering. The taste of victory was laced with the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. My vision blurred, the edges of my consciousness starting to fray.

Fuck. I was in so much pain.

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