Chapter 87

Cigarette perched between my lips, I stared at the dark house. All the lights were off but the front where I knew Phillip was watching the TV while his wife was upstairs asleep. And me? I was a fucking ghost in the backyard. Not a fucking soul knew I was there.

Not even Genevieve. I’d lied to her—a fact that didn’t sit well with me. She thought I was at A.A. several towns over. I’d done that. But she was under the assumption it’d go a hell of a lot longer than needed since it was my first time at this particular meeting.

I hated lying to her, but she wouldn’t be okay with what I was about to fucking do. What she didn’t know, couldn’t hurt her.

Phillip was done hurting his girls, and I was fucking determined to make sure that happened. The man was shit out of luck because I was in a shitty fucking mood. Going into August’s nursery yesterday had damn near wrecked me. Today, we tiptoed around fucking everything in that house. We were living with memories we couldn’t process because they bled from the very walls around us.

As soon as I handled Phillip, I would handle the house. I wanted to breathe easy again. I wanted Genevieve to do the same.

“Took you long enough,” I growled as the darkness beside me shifted. Lane practically appeared out of nowhere—not a new trick for him—and stopped beside me.

“Someone’s a grumpy fucker tonight,” he commented. I glanced at him. The man couldn’t look more fucking causal for what we were about to do. Green Henley pushed up his arms, dark jeans fitted and shoved into work boots, a belt with a knife around his waist, and a leather cord around his neck. Honestly, I wasn’t sure the man had a different fucking outfit. He had that same goddamn Henley in every fucking color imaginable, wore the same fucking jeans and the same black boots. He was alarmingly charming with his blond swept hair, sea-green eyes, and stubble. He looked like the fucking guy you called to fix your shit—fuck, he was blond Declan only leaner.

But I fucking knew better. The Devil himself fucking feared Lane.

“I’m on a fucking schedule,” I told him. I wasn’t. I just wanted to crawl into bed with my wife. I’d missed her warmth and soft sounds as she slept.

“And who are we handling tonight?” he asked, getting straight to business. He crossed his arms and studied the house.

“Start with the wife upstairs. Make it fast and painless,” I said. Yeah, even Gail had to go because she wasn’t innocent in the whole thing either.

“Well, that’s no fun,” Lane replied. I rolled my eyes. Of course, it wasn’t.

“Have your fun with the pastor.”

“I’ve never dealt with a clergyman before.” I didn’t miss the sinister twist in his voice as if that piece of information changed his plans. But I didn’t say a fucking word about it because I didn’t want to know. I wanted Lane to handle it, but I didn’t want the fucking details. The details would probably make me vomit. “Who is he to you?”

“My father-in-law.” I dropped my cigarette and squashed it. When I glanced up, Lane was staring at me with the utmost entertainment etched in his face. “That’s all the details I’m giving you, you sordid fuck.”

“Fast or slow?”

“Make it fucking hurt.” I couldn’t undo the decades of damage he’d done to my wife, but I could make sure he fucking paid for it. While being exiled was a lot, it wasn’t enough. He deserved to hurt. If anyone could make it last, it was Lane.

“My pleasure.” I had no doubt of that.

“You’ll need a fucking clean-up crew,” I continued. “They’re supposed to move by the end of the week. The whole fucking house needs to be cleared out. Make it look fucking legitimate. This is a small town, and people fucking talk.”

“And I can keep him however long I fucking want?” Lane asked.

“As long as it’s not in town, I don’t give a flying fuck what you do with him or for how long,” I stated. And I didn’t.

I gestured him ahead and watched as black magic built on his hands. It dripped from his fingers and seeped from his boots. Wafting off his body, it disappeared into the grass. Dark magic raced toward the house, wrapping around every inch of it until it was blanketed in a black veil.

Not that anyone could fucking see it. Lane was a rare few who could use his magic with no visible appearance. He and I just had an agreement because I wanted to fucking know when he used it. His kind of magic scared me. Lane was a damn good bounty hunter and had saved my life more times than I could count, but his magic? I’d seen him do some dark fucking shit with it. I didn’t trust that for shit.

The back door was unlocked—thanks to Lane—and I let us in without a sound. Breaking and entering was amateur shit. I could shamelessly get in and out of anywhere I fucking wanted without being seen or heard. With Lane right behind me, we faded into the depths of the house. I stopped at the foot of the stairs and motioned up. His grin was fucking sadistic as he vanished up them.

I followed the sounds of the TV through the hall and toward the living room. Phillip sat in his chair, rocking slowly as he scowled at the news.

“Hello, Phillip.” I announced my arrival before I ever stepped out of the shadows. It was worth watching him fucking startle.

“You,” he snapped, surging to his feet.

“Sit the fuck down, Phillip, or I’ll make you,” I growled. I hoped to fuck he didn’t sit down. My hands itched for something to hit. Years of tapped-down anger begged to be let out. I had to be careful, or I’d end up doing what I called Lane to do.

“What are you doing in my house?” he demanded. “Here to ruin more—”

Moving fast, I grabbed a fistful of his sweater and shoved him back in his chair. I kept hold of him as I towered over him, using the position to my advantage. His wolf growled, but mine snapped back more powerful.

“I said sit the fuck down,” I repeated. “Now, I’m going to talk, and you’re going to fucking listen. I want you to understand what the fuck is about to happen to you.”

He opened that stupid mouth of his to say something, and I went for his throat. My fingers closed tight and squeezed just enough to make breathing difficult. He clawed at my arm, wide-eyed, but I was relentless. With Lane’s spell over the house, Phillip wouldn’t be able to shift, which left him at my mercy.

“Starting the party without me?” Lane hummed. He wandered into the room, relaxed as if he hadn’t just killed a woman in her sleep.

“Karma’s a bitch like that. Did you take care of it?”

“Quick and painless like you asked,” Lane replied with a grin. “She never even knew I was there.”

“What did you do to—”

“What you’ll be fucking begging for by the time he’s done with you,” I said over Phillip’s attempt to speak.

“He’ll be fucking wishing for it just after I get started with him,” Lane corrected, chuckling. “I’ve got big plans for you. I’ve learned a few new tricks.”

“You hear that? He’s learned a few new fucking tricks.” I didn’t want to fucking know what his new techniques were. I never asked fucking questions. That was how this worked with him. “Here’s the thing, Phillip, I know every fucking awful thing you did to those girls. You call it love, I call it abuse. You say I fucking ruined your daughter, but you did that all on your own. You have no idea how fucking incredible she is because you just keep tearing her down. All she ever did was fucking love you. Why? I’ll never fucking know.”

I drew in a slow breath as my gaze flicked over to Lane.

“I want you to pay. And I know that deep down Genevieve does. Gabby was real fucking vocal about what she thinks you deserve when I called her,” I stated. More than vocal. Gabby had given me a fucking laundry list of shit she thought her father deserved. Each and every one was nearly as fucking twisted as the shit Lane did in his free time. “I’m nowhere near as creative as my friend here. The things he can do with a knife… well, you’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

“But you will,” Lane promised.

“You can fight and scream and fucking beg, Phillip, but no one is coming for you.” Leaning in closer, I whispered for just him to hear, “When he’s taking you apart piece by piece in the most excruciating fucking way possible and you realize no one is coming to save your pathetic ass, I want you to pay real close attention to that feeling of hopelessness that begins to take over. I want you to realize that’s what she felt every fucking day of her life because of you.”

I let him go and watched him suck in air desperately.

“You won’t get away with this,” Phillip snapped hoarsely.

“Make it hurt,” I reiterated once more to Lane as I backed away. The fucking grin on his face was terrifying.

“You can’t do this!” Phillip shouted after this.

“And you never should’ve hurt my wife,” I said. With that, I walked away. His pleas followed me out the door and vanished as Lane’s spell swallowed them alive.

I paused on the porch to stare up at the cloudy night sky. Was I a bad man for what I brought Lane in to do? Absolutely.

But did I care? Not a chance in hell.

Phillip Goodwin would never hurt my wife again. That was the only thing that fucking mattered.