Page 81 of Ruthless Lord
I grab the knob, and that’s when I hear a whisper.
A man’s voice.
Fuck. Rage hits me like a hurricane.
I rip the door open, not sure what I’m going to find.
And stare at a stranger kneeling on my wife’s arms, pinning her to the floor, his hands wrapped around her throat. Her face is twisted, her lips blue.
“Charlie!” I scream and throw myself at the man.
He grunts in surprise as I slam into his back. I tear him free of my wife and my whole world goes red. Violence, blood, death,pain. That man was trying to kill my wife. He was strangling her, staring into her face, murdering her in my own fucking house.
He tries to fight back but I’m an animal. I can’t think, can’t breathe. All I know is pain. I smash my fist into his face and feel his nose break. Blood splatters down his mouth and chest. I hit him again and again, until his blood splatters my face, my bare chest. I’m in a pair of boxer briefs. I don’t care. I hit him until his teeth cave in. Until his face is pulp and he’s not resisting anymore. I keep hitting him, and soon my fist hits the floor, straight through his completely ruined skull. Bits of his brain and nasal passages are scattered in a smear underneath me and he’s a bloody wreck. Barely recognizable as a human anymore.
I sit there gasping for air, sweat and blood drenching my bare chest, and only then do I have enough humanity left in me to turn and look for her.
Charlie.
Fuck. Charlie!
I find her leaning back against a chair. Her eyes are bloodshot and she’s got one hand pressed to her chest, but she’s breathing. She’s conscious.
God, she’s alive.
I grab her and pull her against me. “Are you okay?” I snarl, checking her over, lightly touching her throat. “Fuck, baby, are you okay? Talk to me, please.”
Her voice is hoarse as she lightly touches my chest. “You’re breaking the rule.”
“Fuck the rule.” I hug her close, relief flooding through me. I could fucking sob right now. Emotions swirl in my chest, and I didn’t even know I had this much feeling left in me. But seeing her there under that bastard, that blood smear on the floor, her face blue and clearly dying, broke something in me.
I lift her into my arms and carry her into our bathroom. I draw a bath, getting the water warm and stripping her down. She lets me without complaint. I get her into the water and join her, blood sloughing off my skin as I drag her into my lap, holding her tight.
“You need a doctor.” I breathe in the smell of her hair. I revel in the beating of her heart and the steady rise and fall of her chest.
“I think the guy in your office needs a coroner.”
“A coroner’s too good for him.”
“At this point, we’re going to need dental records to identify him.”
I can’t laugh at her jokes right now. “What happened? What were you doing in there?”
She’s quiet. Her head leans against my chest, her eyes closed, until she shifts slightly and turns to face me. Bruises are forming on her neck.
“I don’t want to talk about that right now.”
“Charlie—”
“Fuck the rule, okay? Fuck everything else.” She touches my chest. Her hand moves up and touches my cheek. “I almost died in there. And you know what I kept thinking? I was pissed I’d never get to kiss you again.”
“Charlie…” My heart stutters as I grip her hair and pull her close. “There won’t be a last time.” I crush her mouth to mine, tasting her, losing myself in the bliss of her whimpering moans.
I know we should get her to a hospital. I’m dimly aware that I’m missing something right now. She’s not telling me the full story.
I don’t care.
I have to kiss her.
