She couldn’t wait to go home and soak in her tub, but now for another reason. Her body ached, her face hurt, and she wasn’t looking forward to having Deacon see her like this.
Even knowing him for only a week, she already knew what his reaction would be.
Not good.
Deacon released a little growl as he heard his truck pull up the driveway. It was almost midnight.
He’d been calling her non-stop for the past hour. She had not answered once.
Not fucking once. Not even a text to tell him she was all right. Nothing.
At least she wasn’t fucking dead. Or in some ditch somewhere.
Fuck no.
He realized she was independent and didn’t have to answer to anyone, but, for fuck’s sake, a little common courtesy would have eased his fucking frustration.
He should’ve gone to bed an hour ago and just said fuck it and fuck her. She didn’t deserve his concern.
It pissed him the fuck off that he couldn’t. He wouldn’t be able to sleep until she was home and he knew she was okay.
Facing the door, he waited in the middle of the kitchen, his arms crossed over his chest, every muscle tense, his jaw popping. As the door opened, his mouth also did the same to give her the shit she deserved. But as she stepped over the threshold and into the light, nothing but air escaped when an invisible foot kicked him directly in the solar plexus.
Then everything inside him exploded. “What the fuck happened?”
She jerked at his shout and once she closed the door, slowly turned to face him, an ice pack pressed to her eye.
He rushed over, grabbed her oversized tote off her shoulder and put it aside. “What the fuck happened?” he demanded again, tucking a thumb under her chin and tilting her face toward the light so he could see it better. The hand holding the ice pack had a circle of bruises around the wrist.
She had two butterfly bandages over one eye. He pulled her hand with the ice pack away to see her left eye bruised and almost swollen shut. Her mouth had dried blood at one corner, her right cheek had another bruise that was quickly turning an ugly color.
What. The. Fuck.
“Who did this?” he growled, his blood rushing, wanting to kill whoever touched her.
No, it was more than a want. It was a deep-seated need to make whoever did this pay. Because someone was going to pay a huge fucking price for this.
“You need to start talkin’ right fuckin’ now.”
Her good eye met his. And his blood went cold when she said, “Billy.”
“What!” She winced at his shout and he tried to tamp down the fury that engulfed him, but it was impossible. “You shoulda fuckin’ called me!”
She pulled away from him and walked deeper into the kitchen, putting the ice pack on the counter. “I couldn’t. He smashed my phone. I have your truck, anyway. What would you have done? Jogged to town?”
“Fuck!” he roared.
She went to the freezer and dug around, finding a bag of frozen peas and holding that to her face with a hiss. “He knows you’re here.”
“What?”
“He knows you’re fucking here!” she screamed and winced again. “He’s never coming to the house. This was all for nothing.” A tear slipped down her cheek from her good eye. And then another. She swiped at them.
She probably hated the thought of showing any weakness.
“Well, not nothing.” Maybe it was nothing to her, but it wasn’t for him. “Did you see what he was driving?”
“No. He ambushed me in the parking lot. Your truck was the only vehicle there.”
“What did he say?” When she didn’t answer quickly enough, he yelled, “Reese!” Because he was about to lose his fucking shit.
He was about to jump in his truck and hunt that fucker down, slice his goddamn throat and bury him in the woods. Then he’d piss on the grave.
But he knew better to leave Reese alone. Warren knew where she lived, he could be out there watching and waiting.
Like he had done in the parking lot behind her office.
“He said he knew you were here and demanded I tell him where Reilly was and when I wouldn’t—couldn’t—he began hitting me. He smashed my phone and when I tried to stun gun him, he knocked it from my hand.” She sucked in a shaky breath. “Bambi saved me. She heard the commotion and rushed over, calling the cops.”
Thank fuck for Bambi.
But Reese was right, that fucker was never going to approach the house now while Deacon was there waiting for him. Warren had to have spied on the house somehow to know that. He hadn’t left this fucking house since he arrived.
But Warren still knew.
Deacon strode out of the kitchen and across the dark great room, to stare out into the dark woods. He could be out there right now.