Chapter 20

Dropping my keys and phone on the desk, I sit in my chair and start looking through the few pieces of company mail Katie left for me. Most of it is the usual shit. However, it's the small padded envelope that catches my eye. Flipping it over, I see my name typed on the front. It doesn't have a return address, which gives me pause. It's never pleasant when you get a mysterious piece of mail with no return address. It means the sender is concealing their identity for some reason.

When I open the envelope, I find a thumb drive inside. A sense of foreboding has the hair on the back of my neck standing up. A thumb drive sent anonymously through the mail is notorious for holding information. In most cases, that information isn't good. Instinct tells me I'm not going to like what's on this one.

I tip the envelope, letting the thumb drive fall to my desk, and then grab my laptop. Once it's booted up, I insert the drive into the USB port. Sitting stiffly in my chair, I prepare myself for whatever I'm about to see.

The name of the file that pops up doesn't help the uneasy feeling forming in my gut.

FunWithKitty.

The file is a video. After I double-click the icon, a black screen pops up. Once the screen changes, I immediately recognize where the video was taken.

It's my fucking house.

I tense, preparing to spring up from my chair, at first thinking the video was recently recorded. That means the person who sent this could be inside my house right now. As soon as I see the picture on the wall, I stop in my tracks. It hasn't been there for years. Five years, to be precise. It's a family photo of Cat, Eliana, Ryder, and me. All of our family photos have been hidden away. The paint behind the picture had also been changed a couple of years ago, so the person taking the video couldn't have found the picture and rehung it.

I hear heavy breathing at first, like the person holding the camera has just finished a marathon. They move from the hallway into the living room. A bookshelf filled with Cat's published books comes into view, and the person heads straight for it. The camera is turned and placed on a shelf facing the room. From this new angle, it looks like it sits on the second one from the top. It gives the camera a clear view of the rest of the room.

A person wearing a black plastic mask with electric blue X's on its eyes and mouth appears. Immediately, I recognize who it is. Rather, he's one of the three teens who broke into my house years ago.

Ice shards form in my blood. My temples pound so hard that I can barely hear the faint noises coming from the speakers. Screams of terror and muffled cries. My vision clouds and my teeth nearly snap in two from clenching them so hard.

The masked teen walks away, back across the room, and meets another teen with a mask—the same design, except the X's are neon green—who is struggling to bring Cat into the room. No matter how much she fights, her attempts are weak. Probably from one of the many hits to the head she received. Her eyes are wide with terror, and a piece of tape covers her mouth, but it doesn't muffle her screams much.

Following the boy holding my wife is another, this time with purple X's. As he holds my two-year-old son like a football, he drags a screaming and kicking Eliana by her hair with the other hand.

The full force of unrestrained rage consumes every fucking fiber of my being. My body vibrates and my nails leave little crescent marks on my palms.

Not fucking once did Henry, Terry, or Howard mention there was a video of the night they attacked my family. I've only lived that night through Cat's words. It was difficult to hear what she and our kids went through.

I watch them each being tied to a chair. Seeing this firsthand is going to destroy a part of me that I'll never get back.

I want to close my computer and burn the thumb drive. I want to forget I ever got it and pretend I haven't watched what I have so far, because I know this is only the beginning. I know it gets much fucking worse.

This is my punishment. Cat had no choice but to endure this nightmare. She had no choice but to watch the destruction of our family. Because of that, I force myself to continue.

I watch as they start on my wife. My eyes are glued to the scene as each one of them takes turns brutally raping her in front of our children. Not just with their bodies, but with random objects they find in the room. Then they take her all at once.

Cat's muffled screams fill my ears, the same as those she makes in her nightmares as she relives this night over and over again. I want to jam screwdrivers in my ears until they puncture my eardrums. The sounds that leave her throat will haunt me forever.

What seems like hours later, they leave Cat on the floor, naked and covered in her own blood. She's deathly still, and I'm not sure if it's because she's passed out or is in too much pain to move. However, when they turn to Eliana and my twelve-year-old daughter starts to scream, Cat stirs.

My jaw locks, the muscle cramping, when Cat struggles to get to her hands and knees. Blood coats her bare thighs, the color too fucking bright, and her tangled hair falls around her shoulders. Her face is nearly unrecognizable from the damage the bastards inflicted on her while they were raping her. With a hoarse voice, she begs the boys to leave our daughter alone as she crawls toward them. She offers herself, her strangled pleas blistering my ears.

One of the boys leaves the others and walks to Cat, picking her up and throwing her into a chair. She's bound to it by her arms and legs and has another piece of tape slapped over her mouth. After that, he rejoins his friends.

What they do to Eliana is no better than what they did to Cat. In fact, it appears that they're enjoying it more. Whether it's her young age or the rise they're getting out of Cat as she watches our daughter being used in such a horrible way, I don't know.

They laugh and jeer as they savagely defile my precious daughter in ways that will brand my brain for the rest of my life. No wonder Cat's nightmares are so intense, and she tries to forget what she saw and experienced.

A sane person would be driven mad if he or she remembered this.

As they leave Eliana lying on the floor, barely alive, her small body shivering, I feel bile rise in my throat. They move to Ryder next.

It's when they strip my sobbing toddler of his clothes and one man strokes his soiled dick that I can't watch any longer. I slam the laptop closed so forcefully that I hear the screen crack.

I've seen the autopsy reports. I know exactly what those bastards did to my family. How battered their bodies were after they were finished with them.

It wasn't Eliana and Ryder's rape that killed them, however harsh their perversions were. The coroner says they would have more than likely died from their internal injuries from the sexual abuse if given the opportunity. But the bastards ended their lives in another way before their brutalized bodies could give up on their own.

Cat was stabbed in the torso six times before they left, one of those wounds a mere centimeter from her heart. All things considered, she should also have died that night. It was considered a miracle that she survived. But I know it was her sheer will to live. She wishes she hadn't, but I thank God every fucking day that she wasn't taken from me too.

But after watching that video, I understand. After experiencing that, no one would want to live.

My chair slams back against the shelf behind me, knocking several items to the floor. The crash of glass barely registers, the rage filling my body taking control and filling all of my senses.

My body works on autopilot as I grip the edge of my desk and drop my head. My chest pumps as I pull in air and let it out slowly. Blackness seeps into my vision, and I try to push it away. When I close my eyes and try to center my thoughts, images from that fucking video flash through my mind.

And with them, the sudden urge to do damage is too compelling to ignore. Because I don't have the sick bastards in front of me, I take my anger out on my office. Everything I fucking touch will be destroyed.

A deafening roar erupts from my throat as I flip my desk. It crashes on its front, launching its contents everywhere. Mindlessly, I pick up my chair, and with another bellow of rage, I launch it across the room. The shit on the shelf behind me gets thrown. My fist slams against the wall. As I repeat the move over and over again, I barely feel my bones crack and my skin split open.

No matter how much I try, I can't get the images out of my head. I'll never be able to get them out. They've super glued themselves to the walls of my brain to stay forever.

This was Whisper's doing. Henry could have sent it since he's out of prison, but I know it wasn't him. He sent me that goddamn thumb drive knowing how it would affect me. I nearly caught up with him so he's fucking with me. It's a reminder of what he did to my family, and what he could still do.

My chest feels tight and my head beats a crazy, unhinged beat when I'm done destroying my office. Shit lays everywhere. I want to do more. I need to do more, but there's nothing fucking left for me to demolish.

As I spin around, looking for something to grab, I see Silas and Katie standing in the doorway to my office. Kurt stands behind them. While Katie's eyes are wide, Silas and Kurt's faces are expressionless.

I take a deep breath through my nose, like a bull ready to charge, and my hands are fisted at my sides. My shoulders lift and drop, and I'm sure my eyes look wild. It feels like I'm coming apart at the seams.

"You want to explain what the fuck that was?" Silas asks, stepping into my office, his cautious eyes assessing me.

"Later," I grunt, my voice rough from yelling.

I start kicking shit out of my way, looking for my laptop. After spotting it under some papers, I pick it up, not surprised to find the back case cracked. When I pull out the thumb drive, part of me hopes it's also destroyed.

After finding my keys across the room and my phone, which is surprisingly not broken, under another pile of papers, I shove them both into my pocket. Katie quickly steps out of the doorway when I stalk toward her, and I feel her weary gaze as I walk down the hallway.

"Hunter!" Silas calls, following me down the stairs.

I don't stop, just growl over my shoulder. "I said fucking later."

Slamming through the back door of Slate, I pull Mathias's name up on my phone and tap it. He answers on the second ring.

"I need a status report on my house right now," I bark into the receiver.

"One sec," he replies.

I switch over to my SUV's Bluetooth and peel out from behind Slate as I wait for Mathias to talk to his man.

A week after Cat's attack, I had Mathias put a man on her. I've known the man since my time on the streets when I was a teen. He's three years older and was a ruffian like me. We parted ways when I went to live with Thomas and Sandra Myers, but we met back up again about ten years ago. He joined the Army and served as an Army Ranger for four years before he left the service. As soon as he was out, he founded his own security company.

With the mastermind behind the attack free, I wasn't taking any chances. It's been quiet for five years. Whisper has never made his presence known. No matter how hard I searched or who I beat the shit out of, no information could be found. It was like the guy was a fucking ghost.

Until a couple of months ago when Silas heard the name Whisper mentioned in Slate.

"Damon says a black Toyota just pulled up to your house," Mathias says, pulling me from my thoughts. "Jimmy Simons got out and approached the house, but he was waylaid by Presley."

Only a few people are allowed on my property when I'm not around. Cat's family is a given. Silas and Katie are another. And Presley, of course. Jimmy doesn't come by often and usually calls before he does, but I've added him to the list.

"Presley will keep him company until I get there. Let Damon know I'm on my way, but keep vigilant."

"Anything I should know about?" he asks.

"I received a thumb drive containing a video of the night of the attack. I don't know what Whisper's next move is."

"I'll inform my men to be extra cautious."

"Thanks," I mutter before ending the call.

I press down on the gas pedal, speeding through a red light when I see no cars coming. At the moment, my sole purpose is to get to Cat. I need to see her. To feel her in my arms to ensure myself she's really okay.

* * *

I seeJimmy and Presley sitting on the steps of the porch when I pull up to the house. With clenched teeth, I step out of my SUV and approach the pair. I stuff my hand with torn knuckles in the pocket of my slacks to keep them from asking questions.

Normally, I wouldn't mind Jimmy stopping by and even encourage him to do so. At the moment, however, he's keeping me from reaching Cat, something I need to do to calm the waves of rage running through me. Presley is with him, but I can never be irritated by her.

Jimmy gets up from the steps when I walk up. "Hey, Hunter."

While he's only a handful of years older than me, he looks older after living on the streets for so long.

"How's it going?"

"Can't complain." He turns his head to the girl beside him. "Presley was just keeping me company."

"That so?" I cock an eyebrow at Presley. "Are you behaving?"

"I don't know what you mean," she answers haughtily, her eyes sparkling with laughter. "I'm always good."

I snort, which earns me a giggle.

"Too bad you weren't home sooner," she sasses, getting up from the step and brushing her butt with her hands. "Now I only have time to give this to you before I have to go."

She grabs the small stack of papers from the porch, and I take them with my uninjured hand.

"Perhaps if you'd given me a heads up, then I would have been," I say, part of me wishing she had, because I wouldn't have been at Slate and seen that fucking video.

Typical of a girl her age, she sticks out her tongue at me. My lips twitch.

"When have I ever given you a heads up? You're supposed to just know these things."

I grunt in response.

She turns to Jimmy, flashing a couple of dimples when she grins at him. "It was good seeing you again, Jimmy."

"You too, girl."

Jimmy and I watch as Presley skips down the driveway to the sidewalk. I swear, she never simply walks. She has to skip everywhere.

I face Jimmy, anxious to see what he wants so I can get him to leave. I don't feel bad about rushing him. I'm grateful for what he did for my family, but right now, I need to get inside to my wife. "What brings you by?"

"Nothin' particular. Just stopping by to check up on things since I haven't seen you both in a while."

"We're all good here. Things okay for you at work?"

"Yep. The boss man wants to make me a supervisor," he says, giving me a broad grin.

The smile I give him is genuine. "That's fucking great, Jimmy."

"Thanks. I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for you."

And my wife wouldn't be here today if it weren't for him. Cat survived that night only because Jimmy got to her in time. Just a few more minutes, and the doctors said she would not have survived.

I'd give my life for the man in front of me, since that's what he gave me. He saved my life by saving Cat. For a long time, I was barely living after what our kids suffered through. Had Cat died, I wouldn't have been able to live through it.

"You know I'll forever be in your debt, Jimmy," I say solemnly. "There's nothing I could ever do to make up for what you gave me."

Clearing his throat and looking off to one side, he appears uncomfortable. "Yeah, well," he mutters gruffly. "I'm just glad I was there for her."

With a nod, I let the subject go. Jimmy never feels comfortable when I express my gratitude for saving Cat. Though he says he doesn't need my thanks, I'll tell him until the day I die.

"Anyway, I better get going. I'm sure you're anxious to get inside."

"I'll tell Cat you stopped by. She'll be disappointed she missed you."

"I'll be back. Or you can bring her by my place."

"Will do."

We shake hands again before he gets in his car and takes off. As soon as he pulls out of the driveway, I head inside. My first stop is the downstairs bathroom to wash and bandage my hand, and then I head straight for the second floor, knowing Cat is lying down. She texted me earlier, saying she was getting a headache and wanted to try sleeping it off.

When I walk into the room, the thick, light-reflecting curtains are closed, so it's dark, but I can spot Cat sitting up in bed. As I sit on the side of the bed, some of the ire still radiating throughout my body fades. Cat is the only one who can ever calm me down when I'm drowning in the blackness of rage.

A soft smile curls her lips at the corners as her sleepy eyes meet mine. "Hey."

I cup the side of her face, smoothing my thumb along her cheek. "How's your head?"

Turning her head, she kisses my palm before looking back at me. "Better." Her eyes drop to the papers in my hand and she notices the bandage.

"What did you do this time?" she asks as her brows pucker into a frown.

I ignore her question and hold out the papers. "These are for you."

She nibbles her bottom lip as she takes them. Her mind is still on my hand, but I don't want to discuss it right now. Thankfully, she drops it and looks over the papers.

"I love Presley's stories." She flips through them. Seeing her delight has more of the fury blackening my soul drifting away. "I can't wait to read what other shenanigans she's come up with."

"With Presley, there's no telling," I say with a laugh.

"This is true."

Keeping my hand on her cheek, I pull her head forward and dip my lips closer to hers. My eyes close, and I savor the precious gift.

"How about we order in tonight and sit in front of the fireplace while we eat?"

"You truly are a man after my own heart," she answers with a smile.

"You got that wrong, baby," I say, rubbing my lips against hers. "I already own your heart, and I'm never letting it go."