My eyes drift left. Toward the barn. I can’t help it, and my feet change direction before my brain gives permission.
I pause when I hear it, a guttural, animal scream coming from behind the closed doors. I tiptoe closer. Curiosity pulls me forward even as instinct tells me to turn around. I hold my breath, press myself against the wall, and peer through the grimy window.
I gasp.
I should look away. I should be disgusted. I should turn around, walk to Violet’s, and pretend I never saw this.
I’m not disgusted. And I don’t look away. There’s a man roped up to a beam on the ceiling by his wrists. Shirt stripped off, suit pants still on, his body hanging limp like a piece of meat in a butcher’s shop. Blood is running in dark lines down his chest and dripping off his ribs onto the dirt below.
And Hunter is whipping him, still in the white shirt he married me in. Over and over. Each crack of whatever he’s using lands in the same zone, and each time the man’s screams grow louder and more ragged until they don’t even sound human anymore.
His brothers stand around the edges. Watching.
Does this make me want to run?
No. It makes me wonder what this man did to deserve it.
They cut the rope and let him drop to the floor. He crumples into the dirt like a puppet with no strings. I keep watching, breath fogging the glass, trying to read lips through the grime on the window.
I can’t make out what they’re asking him, but I can see Hunter’s face. The set of his jaw. The calm behind his eyes. He’s not angry. He’s not out of control. He’s working. This is his job. The other half of the man I married earlier.
And then he turns, and his eyes find the window. Then they find me.
My heart stops. I’m caught. A deer in headlights with her face pressed against the barn glass on her wedding day. He doesn’tflinch. He doesn’t even look angry that I’m here watching him. Instead, he blows me a kiss and winks at me.
My stomach flips. I press my fingers to my lips, return it, and step away from the window.
My hands are shaking. But not from fear.
I married that man.
And I’d do it again.
Taking a breath, I run back to the house and grab the keys to Hunter's truck. There is no way he’s going to be ready in time for the school run with everything going on in that barn. So I’m just going to go ahead and make my way there.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
HUNTER
Song- Slam,Pendulum
The Greek is tougher than I expected. He’s been hanging from that beam for twenty minutes. Ace worked him with the crop first. Colten took a turn with questions between each round. Beau watched from the corner, cataloguing every detail the way he always does.
And the bastard still hasn’t given us a name.
I caught Lola’s face in the window a few minutes ago. Green eyes wide behind the glass. She didn’t run. Didn’t scream. She just watched. And when our eyes met, she didn’t look away.
I blew her a kiss because she needed to know that the man in this barn and the man who married her today are the same person. And she needs to be okay with that. There aren’t two separate sides of me. I just am who I am.
She blew one back. That’s my girl.
I turn back to the Greek. He’s on the floor now, curled on his side, breathing in short, wet rasps.
I crouch down beside him. “Who sent you to Ashley’s place?”
He spits blood into the dirt.
“Who are you working with? Someone local? Someone feeding you information about my movements?”