Page 32 of Voracious

“Fight back.” She can see the lie. “I had to fight. I went t-to the police and they… they didn’t stop him after he attacked me – he killed the bodyguard and said if I didn’t stay away from you, he’d kill you too.”

I hear Barry swear under his breath again. All I can picture is snapping whoever this person is in half.

“Please don’t let him find me. Please,” she mumbles, panicking as she grips only my white shirt. “He said he wanted to get me pregnant.”

My voice drops to a deep, threatening tone. “Who?” I ask her, my teeth clenching so hard they might crack.

She hiccups as her head lolls to the side, and I catch her shoulder as she nearly falls away from me. “Chris.” Then she gestures to her busted-up face with unsteady movements. “Cyber-freak and master manipulator. The creator of this wonderful artwork.”

“Who?”

“Your boyfriend?” Barry asks, and I want to punch him for even addressing that she’s potentially in a relationship.

“No. Chris,” she replies groggily just before she passes out, and I don’t think I breathe for a good minute while I run through what she just said over and over and over again.

Who the fuck is Chris?

He wants to get her pregnant?

Cyber-freak?

“Now it makes sense,” Barry says, a deep line between his brows. “Yet it doesn’t. I have no idea who Chris is.” His brows furrow deeper. “I think we missed something. I’ll do a retrace.”

“Whoever it is, I’m going to kill him.” Understatement – I’m going to rip him limb for limb and set the cunt on fire.

Barry paces. “I’ll see what I can find.”

“Take Stacey to the manor – tell my mother everything that happened tonight. Whoever this prick is, she’ll issue security alongside ours. Contact Emmerson’s family and offer our condolences; give them enough money to be comfortable. And find out who the fuck Chris is when she wakes up.”

“On it, sir.”

“When you find out who that was downstairs, I want him too.”

“I’ll ask Miss Rhodes for information on him when she’s conscious. Our car is here,” Barry tells me. Then he shows me his phone screen. “Bernadette is still sitting at the table with Cassie. Archie is in some debate with another husband. You can make it back without appearing suspicious.” He gestures to my shirt. “Do you want to swap shirts with me? You’re covered in blood.”

“No offence, Barry, but my chest and back are a lot bigger than yours.”

He hums, crouching down to Stacey to check her eyes. “I might need to give her Narcan. Do you know if she’s allergic to anything?”

“No. No allergies.” I shake my head at the fact I need to leave Stacey when she’s in this state. I lean my back to the wall beside the toilet, keeping her between my bent knees, her head resting on my chest. “Please keep her safe – I need you to watch her. I’m about to get time off so I can be with her, and you can go and see Lisa. You haven’t been home in months.”

Barry nods. “You need to go now, sir.”

I look down at Stacey, taking in the worried expression she wears even while she’s sleeping. The bruises fucking piss me off, and when I get the chance, I’ll hunt down the asshole that dared to lay his hands on her.

Reluctantly, I lift Stacey in my arms and pass her to Barry before tightening the suit jacket around her. I stare at her – the beauty of her – and release her hand.

“I’ll be back at the manor in a few days. We’ll discuss everything then.”

Stacey groans and starts tensing up in Barry’s arms, and he rushes her back to the toilet to vomit all over again.

“Go, sir. I’ll have someone clean up the bodies. Leave before you draw attention.”

My phone starts ringing, and I give Stacey one last look, even though I want to be the one holding her hair back and head up in her condition. I want to be the one caring for her.

Instead, I put my phone away and leave the hotel room, going back to Bernadette, her delusional husband and the daughter they want me to marry.

“What took you so long?”

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