Page 84 of Torment

“Where is she, Riggs?”

“Through here.” Colton stepped up to a door, but as he reached for the knob, he paused. “Hunter, you need to—”

“Open the fucking door.” Hunter was done hearing about how he needed to keep his shit together. He knew the stakes. He knew everything depended on him playing it cool and remaining calm.

Colton turned the knob, and Hunter watched as the double dark wood doors slowly creaked open. Like the loud rumbling of thunder, Hunter’s heart beat inside his chest, and for a few soul destroying seconds he stopped breathing…until he saw her.

And then he lost his shit.

“What the fuck!” Hunter stormed inside when he saw Scarlet chained to the table, half naked and crying while Brent was licking his slimy motherfucking tongue up her leg.

Murder.

Death.

Pain.

The three main things that Hunter felt the compelling need to do. Murder the motherfucker, bring him death while inflicting the maximum amount of pain humanly possible.

Two men rushed from the side, blocking his way, and aimed four guns at his head.

“Riggs!” Hunter yelled. “What the fuck is going on here?”

Scarlet’s head jerked in his direction, and when her eyes met his, he saw more tears stream down her face while she made the most horrific moans, the sound shooting straight through his chest. Her mouth was gagged with blood at the corners, and her cheeks red from crying. With everyone yelling, chairs screeching across the floor, all he heard was her whimpers—her cries—and it was turning him into a fucking mad man.

“You filthy motherfucker!” Hunter just reacted, not even taking two seconds to think it through.

He grabbed one of the asshole’s arms in front of him, twisted it, and then pushed down on the guy’s hand gripping the gun, forcing him to pull the trigger—but not before aiming it at the other guy’s chest.

Blood gushed from the man’s chest, oozing out of the wound like red pus. At that moment, with all the rage pumping through Hunter’s vision, he loved the sight.

“Hunter, stop!” James rushed in, but Hunter wasn’t close to being done. The guy Hunter had a hold on started fighting and thrashing, but in the state Hunter was currently in, there was no way anyone would be able to beat him. He had one goal, and one goal only—to get Scarlet off that goddamn table and kill every goddamn motherfucker in the room.

Hunter started pounding the guy’s side, slamming fist after fist into the exact same area, inflicting the worst damage possible. The second Hunter felt the guy’s fight leave him just a little, he twisted his arm up, pointed the gun at the guy’s temple, and once again forced his finger down on the trigger.

It was like the motherfucking Fourth of July with fireworks of blood and brain matter exploding everywhere.

Hunter tossed the half-headless dead weight to the floor and then his vision zeroed in on Brent, who seemed frozen, still on his knees, crouching over Scarlet’s legs.

Just as he went to rush forward, to rain down his fucking wrath on that psycho, the sound of a gunshot penetrated his murderous haze.

When he looked to the side, he saw a man he didn’t recognize holding a gun at Scarlet’s head.

“Well, you sure know how to make a memorable entrance,” the man said.

“Rex,” Colton said, and Hunter narrowed his eyes as he stared at the man. So this was Rex, supposedly the evilest man everyone thought had the power to defeat the devil. “This is Hunter Keaton, and he’s here claiming that Scarlet is his.”

“Yeah. So I’d point that gun somewhere else if I were you,” Hunter warned.

“No, I think it’s in my best interest if I keep it right here.” He pushed the gun harder against Scarlet’s temple, and she whimpered. Hunter’s heart was racing, sounding like a train on a rickety track about to lose control.

Four more men came pouring into the dining room, each armed with some big-ass rifles, circling around Rex like he was the damn Russian president.

Brent, with his freakishly white hair, got off the table and stood about six feet away. Hunter really wanted to carve the fucker’s face off.

“Why the hell is he still alive?” Brent glared at Colton.

Colton walked around the two dead bodies on the ground. “Sir, I tasked Killian here,” he pointed at one of the corpses, “to kill him. Obviously, he didn’t do it.”

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