“Why didn’t this Dixie character send you first?” Rhett asks, taking over the interrogation as I mull over this information. “Since you were there when he learned about the hit on Anchor and his daughter?”
The hitman shoots him a wary glance. “I was about to leave for another job. I only just got back a few days ago and that’s when Dixie told me the others had failed and he needed me. No one can find Anchor, but Dixie had a general idea of where the girl could be. Or at the very least, had been last seen. He needed me to grab her so that he could use her to lure Anchor out. It sounded… easy enough.”
My bolt cutters go swinging and they make contact with the side of the man’s face. His head whips to the side and he lets outa harsh cry of pain before his head drops to his chest and he goes still.
“Yeah? You thought it would beeasy?” I snarl, getting into his face. “Still think that? Blair’s not going anywhere. An army could come and I would tear through every fucking man and woman there was until there were only stumps left and not even those stumps would touch her.”
Rhett chuckles as he reaches out to grab a handful of wiry mouse-brown hair. He yanks the man’s head back and slaps him a few times to wake him up. The hitman gasps weakly as he comes to.
“There you are,” Rhett coos with a dark and sinister chuckle. “I thought we’d lost you there for a second. In case you didn’t hear that, if you or anyone else touches Blair—you’re dead. I may not be fond of her, but—” he shrugs. “She’s under our protection so even if you got through him,” he shoves a figure in my direction. “You’d have to get through me next and you don’t look like you’re in any position to mow either of us down.”
“P-please… this job means nothing to me,” he rasps out. “I-I can set up a meeting. You can…talk to Dixie face to?—”
I snort out a laugh. “Yeah, no. You can’t bait me. I won’t be walking into a trap.”
“What else d-do you want from me?” the man wheezes pathetically.
“If you don’t call in or return, what then? Your handler will send someone else?” I ask curiously.
He nods. “I won’t be the last b-but I can tell Dixie that I-I killed the girl. Just give me a hand or even just her finger to take back with me and?—”
A scoff of disbelief followed by a snarl of rage, erupts from me before I strike.
The bolt cutters come up and then straight down. The sickening thud of bone cracking is so familiar I don’t flinch atthe noise. Over and over, I strike him. Even when there’s nothing more than skin, tendons, and brain matter attached to his neck, I keep going.
The thought of this bastard taking bits ofmywoman has me burning with rage.
Vaguely, I hear movement around me, then silence but I don’t pay it any mind. So wrapped up in my own bloody haze of fury, nothing else really matters at this moment. No one is taking Blair from me. And whoever tries will end up just like this fucker. I wish I could hang this body up for all to see as a warning for anyone else who tries to come after her. Like a scarecrow in a field, a dead body would do wonders keeping other troublemakers away. In the distance, I’m aware the basement door is opening and closing. Was that the second time I’d heard it do that?
“Hey.” A hand touches my back and I stiffen. Before I can swing around to hit whoever’s crept up behind me, Rhett adds, “Wood chipper is warmed up and ready to go.”
I relax instantly. Right, I can’t just pulverize this guy out of existence. The bolt cutters drop to the cement floor with a loud clang. I look over my shoulder at Rhett.
“You good?” he asks.
“I’ve been better,” I admit.
“Well, you can get piss ass drunk once the body’s taken care of. That should help,” Rhett suggests. “Or, you can take a shower and get some sleep. It’s nearly four in the morning. The latter’s probably the healthier coping mechanism but I won’t judge if you choose option one.”
Amusement tries, but fails, to bubble up in my chest. So instead of chuckling, I simply grunt. I turn back to the man in the chair. His head is all but gone, split into bloody chunks of blood and flesh on the floor.
“Was all that true?” Rhett asks after a beat of silence. “About Blair and what her dad did to her?”
I nod but stay silent.
Regrettably, I’d forgotten Rhett was in the room with me when I went on that tangent. I shouldn’t have said anything. Blair’s life isn’t my story to share. Anchor raised his kid in a way that he thought best and though I never approved of his methods I never really voiced my objections either. Blair wasn’t my kid. What did I know about raising one under the conditions he lived in? That being said, I was around a lot more than I probably needed to be, job or not, just to make sure Blair knew there wassomeonewatching out for her in case Anchor took things too far.
Which reminds me… Glaring at Rhett, I growl out, “Iwill be the one to tell her about this, got it?”
Rhett shrugs. “Fine by me. Now, let’s go chop up this asshole. Then we got to go take care of his car.”
Chapter 23
Rhett
The smell of sizzling, greasy bacon hits me the minute I reach the bottom of the stairs.
My mouth waters and my pace quickens. Damn, I’m hungry. The sound of soft conversation between Wes and Blair isn’t a deterrent this morning. Usually, the sound of Blair’s voice is like nails scraping against a chalkboard—not because it’s unpleasant. In fact, her soft, husky tone is almost comforting. Her voice is a steady sound filled with warmth that I’m not used to hearing around here. The problem is that hearing it at all reminds me there’s someone under this roof who could ruin my entire life.
