Page 71 of Single Mom's Mountain Men
And God only knows how long she’s had to endure that, and live in fear. My fingers dig into my palm, fist clenching so tight I know my fingernails will leave marks on my callused palms. She looked exhausted the day she got here. I wonder how long she spent running.
All because of that sorry, fucking bastard.
Holy shit, I can’t remember ever being this mad in my life. The thought of someone hurting gentle Patty like that is literally driving me insane.
I want to hit something. Hit someone. I want to bury my fist in this bastard’s face so many times that he no longer looks human.
"What's his name?" And where can we find him and end him?
"Keegan Ward," she says. "Although that last name is probably a fake."
Fuck. It would be harder to find the bastard without a surname. Harder but not impossible.
"Why the fuck didn't she tell us? Is that who she's running from?"
He nods. "We have to protect her."
"We will." Determination sets in as my heart cries out for vengeance. "No one will ever touch her again."
CHAPTER 25
Patty
Idon’t feel right leaving things how they currently are with Mitch.
Even though Mitch is not angry at me, I need to know for sure. The anxiety and remorse chew up my gut all afternoon, and that feeling’s made worse when Mitch skips dinner.
And his absence is certainly felt by others too.
“Where’s Mitch?” Katie asks, glancing around before she sips her glass of water.
“He had a headache and said he wanted to lie down,” Charlie lies. “He’ll eat later.”
"Should we go kiss his booboos?” Maddie asks. “I always feel better when my mommy kisses my booboos.”
“We can go do that later," I tell Maddie, trying to smile even with the shame that steals whatever was left of my appetite.Oh, what Mitch must think of me.I think about the pure judgment in his eyes and shudder. He probably thinks I'm some kind of hussy. And I must be. Something must be twisted around inside to make me the kind of woman to enjoy sex with two men. Brothers for that matter.
Mitch is probably scared I'm going to ruin his family and even though it's the last thing I want to do, I can understand his fear.
So after dinner, I take a tray of food to his room. I figure that I might as well use this opportunity to apologize to him, or at least make sure he’s okay. He came back early from work today which is very unusual for him, so I want to make sure that his illness isn’t anything too serious.
I knock on the door, but don’t receive an answer. I knock again and this time, there's a faint groan from the other side.
Alarm grabs me by the throat.
“Mitch?” I call out but there’s no answer.Oh no. Is he passed out?
I push the door open, taking in his small, highly organized bedroom, and finding Mitch on the bed, lying on his back. He’s still in his work jeans, shirtless with sweat shining on his skin. One arm is thrown over his eyes and he emits another moan.
I place the tray on the table next to his computer and approach.
“Mitch," I call out softly. “Are you alright?”
He doesn’t respond. Does he have a fever? I reach out to touch his forehead, trying to detect his temperature.
His arm snaps around my wrist and tugs me to the bed.
I barely have time to squeak as he rolls over on top of me, his eyes suddenly wide and wild as they stare down at me, unblinking, remorseless.
