Chapter Twenty-Six
Charlotte, North Carolina; Christmas Day 1872
VengeancerushedthroughGeneral’sveins as he stood in front of Tia Callahan’s home. The taste of sweet revenge lingered on his tongue, his adrenaline rushing fiercely. Oh, how he had dreamed of this moment since his confinement—with nothing else to do but think. He couldn’t wait to wrap his hands around Josephine and crush her with every fiber of muscle in his body. He could almost hear the sound of her whimpers and bones crunching beneath his strength. The foolish girl thought she was so smart, but she wasn’t smart enough to cover her own tracks.
Crazy Tia’s house stood tall in the middle of the city, standing out with its crimson brick and piercing white door, decoratedwith pathetic Christmas wreaths that made General want to rip it to shreds. Christmas had been his parents’ favorite holiday, but General hated it. Christmas was just another day, one to spread stupid happiness across the globe. And the hope in happiness made a person soft.
The estate was guarded by a large iron gate; however, it wouldn’t keep him out. Josephine’s vacation was over, and her hideout had been exposed. He could sniff a deserter out like a bloodhound, his skin prickling with anxiousness. General reached up and rang the bell above the entrance. He folded his arms over his chest as he waited, his pulse growing stronger, almost violently.Wait—the best comes to the ones who wait. And it would be great. It would be worth the eight months of her absence.
At last, the groundskeeper approached and opened the gate, and the General stepped through after introducing himself. He always found it funny that if he mentioned his military status, no one asked questions. The groundskeeper looked frightened, his body shuddering and his face pale.
Josephine thought she could kill him, but General wasn’t weak. His accident only made him stronger and hungry for the final beating he’d give her. She’d have what she deserved. He was invincible, hardly able to be killed, especially by a pathetic woman. General survived two wars. The only thing that came out was a scar running down his right cheek. It was a battle scar, a sign of his strength.
General walked down the cobblestone paths and through the tall oaks standing sentinel above him. He stopped in front of the front door, wearing his black suit. Instead of the bride coming forward to the groom, he was the groom coming to her with a special gift in mind. Oh, how he loved the irony of the situation. General knocked with a firm fist and waited.
He knocked again.
Nothing.
He groaned, tapping his foot in frustration, teetering on the edge of losing his patience. He had the power to convict his wife, but hanging at the gallows would be too merciful for her. She deserved worse. General pounded on the door with increasing force, ready to unleash his fury and break it down if necessary. To his surprise, a young maid opened the door instead of a butler, her expression a mix of confusion and concern.
“May help you, sir?” she asked shyly.
May I help you?General mocked internally. He cleared his throat, forcing his irritation down as he prepared to address her. He adjusted his ascot tie, presenting himself as a gentleman. “Good afternoon, young lady, I am looking for my wife, Mrs. Josephine Wellington.”
The girl’s eyes widened for a moment before returning to a neutral expression. Oh, how he relished the art of interrogation. It wasn’t every day that a retired general with a scarred face showed up unannounced. General craved the fear radiating from her, eager to feed off the girl’s apprehension and grow more dominant and powerful before her.
“You must have the wrong house, sir. There is no one by that name at this residence.”
General’s jaw tightened at the thought of that senile aunt of Josie’s. She had taken his wife from him once, but he vowed she wouldn’t hide her for long. He would hunt them down, relentless and unforgiving, until he reclaimed what was rightfully his.
“Where is Miss Tatiana Callahan then? I need to speak with her.”
The girl’s face turned ghostly white. “Sir, I apologize, but Miss Callahan has passed on.”
Anger surged within General like a raging storm, and his facade crumbled. There was no “gentlemanly husband”anymore, only unbridled fury and strength that once turned him into the invincible general.
“What do you mean she’sdead?” General snapped.
“She . . . She passed two months ago.”
General sucked in a deep breath, forcing himself to steady his rage. He needed information, and this pathetic girl could supply it to him. He had to be patient. General grabbed a few gold coins and held them out in his hands, letting the glint of the gold catch her eye.
“Would you be willing to supply information regarding my wife for a reward? I know you know something. I can see it in your eyes.”
The girl stared at the shimmering gold. She bit her lip, then shook her head. “I’m sorry, sir, but I know nothing. I swear it.”
“That’s a lie!”
The girl stepped back, her bottom lip quivering. “I-I’m sorry. I told you all I know.”
General shoved the girl aside and pushed open the door with great force and stomped inside.
“Josephine!” he screamed, his jaw tight. “Josephine!” He stormed the great hallway and called again. “Josephine!”
He heard loud footsteps echoing from above—the butler and two footmen appeared on the staircase.
“Where is my wife?” General demanded, his feet stomping the marble floor like gunfire as he strode towards them.
