Page 38 of The Hermit

Grace gingerly pulls her arm out of my hold and lowers her head. Her reaction to my words makes a storm build in my chest.

She thinks I’ll do the same to her as Mallon did. I get the feeling reassuring her with words won’t make any difference.

Ian begins to shake his head, and it has me patting a hand beneath the gun strapped to my chest. My tone is laced with a clear warning not to try and fight me as I growl, “I’m marrying Grace.”

“She’s damaged,” Ian argues.

My eyes narrow on the man who’s dangerously close to meeting his maker.

“I have a fond appreciation for damaged things.” Considering the subject closed, I order, “There won’t be a massive wedding. Arrange for someone to marry us first thing tomorrow morning. After the ceremony, I want to leave immediately.”

Frustration ghosts over Ian’s face, but he doesn’t fight me again and nods.

I turn to leave the office but pause to say, “Don’t try to run, Grace. If I have to hunt you down, I won’t be happy.”

Her movements are shaky as she lifts her head to meet my eyes. I’ve gotten used to seeing her gray irises alive with fire, and the resigned look she has doesn’t sit well with me.

By my side, she’ll get stronger like Evinka did. It will take time, but one day, Grace will realize I’m not the monster she thinks I am.

“Be ready at six am. There’s no time to waste,” I say before walking out of the office.

“Didn’t Ciara say anything to you?” I hear Ian ask.

“Right after Dominik arrived, she mentioned running away,” Grace murmurs.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?!”

I stop walking and clench my jaw as I contemplate putting a bullet in Ian for raising his voice at Grace.

“Why would I tell you anything?” Grace asks, her tone void of emotion. “You’ve done nothing but undermine us and put us at risk.”

When a slap echoes through the air, I spin around as I yank my gun from the holster. Stalking back into the office, I don’t think twice as I train the weapon on Devlin’s right arm.

Pulling the trigger, the shot rings through the office, ripping a scream from Grace, who quickly covers her ears with her hands while her terrified eyes fly to me.

Ian lets out a startled shout, grabbing his bicep where the bullet hit. With an incredulous look, he stares at me.

“Next time you hit Grace, I’ll fucking kill you.” I give him the courtesy of a final warning because he’s Grace’s father.

If he were any other man, he’d be lying dead in a pool of blood.

I grab hold of my fiancée’s hand, and stalking out of the office, I drag her behind me.

Only when we reach the bottom of the stairs do I stop. I shove my gun back into the holster and let go of Grace’s hand.

“No man is to lay a finger on you,” I order. “Understand?”

She quickly nods, and even though I scared the everloving shit out of her, she still lifts her gaze to mine. For a long moment, she stares at me, and only when her eyes begin to brim with unshed tears does she turn away from me.

I watch as she climbs the stairs, and when she reaches the second floor, I call out, “Pack everything you want to bring with you.”

Her head spins around, and her eyes widen, shock rippling over her face. “What?”

“Make sure you pack everything you’ll need,” I repeat.

Her lips part, and I watch as she realizes something that makes terror tighten her features.

Her voice is hoarse when she asks, “I’m going with you?”

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