Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ajax

The house is brightly lit, illuminating the backyard and making me cringe. I keep close to the wall that leads to the back door. There’s no camera, but I don’t want any residents to glance out and see me sneaking inside.

Even dressed in camouflage and a ski mask, there’s no hiding from this light. It’s coming from every fucking room. It’s the middle of the night. They’re supposed to be in bed like the rest of the town.

Reaching out my right arm, I grip the door handle while staying plastered to the wall. With one hard shove, the door slides on the track.

It’s unlocked.

A grin takes over my face, even as a stab of disappointment hits my chest. I was hoping for a good hunt tonight, but they’re making it easy.

Their house doesn’t have a close neighbor on either side. It’s run down and set back off a side road, so getting into the backyard unseen wasn’t hard. A fucking amateur could get in here undetected.

Anger returns. That motherfucker is the man of the house. He’s supposed to make sure Lulu is safe and that the house is locked up tight at night.

After his performance at the grocery store, I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. Surprised and disgusted.

Some men don’t deserve their families, but it’s okay because I’m about to take his.

A satisfied thrill settles in my bones. Maybe tonight will be fun after all.

The kitchen is a mess. Food, glass, and ceramic litter the floor. The shards crunch under my feet, making my jaw twitch.

So much for entering unnoticed.

I still, listening for movement farther in the house, but the only sound that reaches me is my own breathing.

Hopefully, they’re all asleep. By the mess, I assume they’ve worn themselves out.

Carefully but quickly, I get it over with, crossing the room as fast as possible. I scrub my boots on the carpet when I step off the tiled floor, knocking loose anything stuck in the soles.

The kitchen leads me to a small entryway with coats and shoes neatly piled and hooked by the front door. The stairs to my left tease me, but I need to clear the bottom floor first. There is nothing worse than being caught unaware.

For all I know, the useless bastard might have fallen asleep on the couch. The room is empty, and nothing is worth noting except a small overturned table and a mess of discarded food. Looks like someone lost his temper.

My excitement turns to worry at the mess. Lulu had better be sleeping safely in her room; otherwise, someone would be dying slowly tonight.

Dread seeps into my bones. Something is off. Even in a house like this, something is not right.

Silently, my feet carry me upstairs. The second floor is small, with just three doors. I push open the only door that isn’t completely closed. The bathroom is empty and dark.

My heart pounds.

Pressing my ear to the next door, I strain, but nothing greets me. Backing away, I do the same with the last door, frowning when the same nothingness greets me.

It’s impossible to know who is behind each door and where the danger lies. This is why I prefer hunting outside. There’s nowhere for people to hide.

Fuck it. Left it is.

My hand closes around the doorknob, twisting slowly and without a sound. Just like the rest of the house, the bedroom light is on, making it easy to see the prone body lying on the bed. She’s the woman from earlier, who was in the front seat of the car.

Her dad is gone, but maybe this is her mom? It doesn’t matter; she let that prick touch my girl, and that can’t go unpunished.

An open bottle of wine sits three-quarters empty on the bedside table next to where she’s passed out. Her husband is nowhere in sight. The dread from earlier returns.

Backing out of the room, I head to the other, reaching it in seconds. This house really is small—not that I can talk with the RV, but Lulu will have more room once we’re back at my cabin. Our cabin, I correct myself.

I hesitate outside of what can only be Lulu’s room, my gut churning.

A sigh escapes me, the doorknob heavy in my hand. Empty.

Where the fuck is my girl?

Backing out of the dark room, I remove my knife from the sheath at my lower back. The weight in my hand, comforting. The drop point blade catches the light, making my cock stir. Yeah, tonight will definitely be fun.

Time to get some answers.

The woman on the bed hasn’t stirred, her frame exactly where I left her. I eye the bottle on the bedside. Although fun, tonight may not be as easy as I expected.

Sitting on the bed, I shuffle closer, my head tilting as I watch her sleep. She looks peaceful . . . I can fix that.

Not needing it just yet, I tuck my knife away.

My large palm clamps down on her mouth, my thumb and forefinger pinching her nose closed. Let’s wake her up. I reach over with my other hand, grab the abandoned wine, and pour it over her face.

Warm red wine trickles down the back of my gloved hand. The woman beneath my hold starts to shake her head—slowly at first, then frantic. She struggles, her hands shoving and hitting out at my chest. Her movements are sloppy. She’s drunk, and I’m bigger. This won’t end well for her, and she knows it.

“Do I have your attention?”

When she doesn’t respond, I repeat myself.

“Do I have your attention?”

Her head bobs.

“Good. You will answer my questions quickly and quietly. If anything other than that leaves your mouth, my hand returns to where it is now. A third time and I will not lift my hand until you stop breathing. Am I understood?”

She nods frantically, her watery eyes bulging.

Good.

“Lulu, where is she?”

I lift my hand slowly, hovering it over her mouth.

“I don’t know,” she rushes.

“Are you her mother?” How angry will my girl be when I kill her ?

Sneering, the woman on the bed nods.

No love lost there, then. I raise a brow at her silent answer. How did Lulu come from this and still be so caring and sweet to a strange child?

“The man at the store, who is he?”

“My husband. Please don’t hurt us. You can take what you want,” she cries.

Some people just have to learn the hard way. I roll my eyes.

My hand clamps down, my thumb and forefinger gripping her nose again.

Now, it’s my turn to sneer.

Satisfaction and arousal course through me as she struggles. Her fingers clutch at my covered shoulders, her eyes pleading.

Only when I know that her lungs are burning do I let go.

“I ask questions; you answer. That’s it,” I snap.

Too busy gasping, she doesn’t respond.

“Where is Lulu?” I try again.

“I don’t know. The bitch ran off again,” she sobs between gulping breaths.

My body tenses at her words.

“What the fuck happened downstairs?”

I’m shaking with anger before I even have my answer.

“She made Andrew mad. Can’t even cook him dinner right.”

“Is she hurt?”

I brace for the answer .

“I don’t know.” I believe her.

“Where is your husband?”

My chest gets tighter the longer she remains silent.

“I don’t know,” she whispers.

My chest relaxes.

“But he’s with her.”

Her words make my world stop. My eyes move up, searching her gaze. She’s scared, yes, but something else is hidden beneath. Whatever that asshole is doing to my girl, her mother wants it to happen.

My hand closes around her neck instinctively.

“Where would Lulu run?”

Her mother shakes her head.

Not good enough.

“Where?” I hiss.

The sound that leaves her is inhuman. That of a woman desperate to live. My hold loosens enough to let her words slip out.

“The woods. She ran out back,” she coughs out.

Seems I do get to go hunting tonight after all.

“He followed?”

She nods as best she can with the viselike grip I have on her neck.

“Is he armed?”

She shakes her head.

“You said Lulu’s run before. Does he always follow?”

Another negative head motion.

Good, that means she has an advantage. He doesn’t know where she runs to .

But it means this time is different. If he catches her . . .

I shove away the awful thought. I need to leave. Now.

“Then it seems we’re done here.” I give a small nod.

The hand twisting in my jacket relaxes a little.

“You should have protected her. That’s a parent’s job. Now, you’re just as bad as he is.” My hand moves up to clamp her mouth again. I need her neck clear for what’s coming next.

Fortunately for her, I’m out of both time and patience. I need to find my girl before her stepfather does something. Reaching behind me, I grip the hilt of my knife. Now, she’s truly panicking.

As she should.

Using the hold on her face, I tilt her head back slightly, pushing her farther into the pillow.

The curved edge of the blade makes quick work of cutting through the skin of her throat. The slice is clean and precise.

Blood spills out, soaking her shirt. The bright lights of the room make the red so much more thrilling.

Life seeps out of her onto the rumpled bedsheets. But my usual calmness is nowhere to be found. My body remains tense and wound up.

I need to find my girl.

First, I’m going to save her, and then, I will take her.