Page 106 of Married to the Devil

“You killed him, you fucking cunt! You bitch! I’m going to fucking cut your throat, you bitch!” It sounds like he’s crying as he screams at me.

But I reach Marnie’s room first.

I pound on the door. “It’s me, it’s me, please, Priya, I know you’re in there, let me in let me in let me in⁠—“

The lock clicks. “Byron told me to stay hidden.”

I ram the door open with my shoulder then slam it shut behind me. I lock it in time, throwing the bolt at the top, as Nunzio bashes into it a second later. The frame flexes but it holds.

“June, I know you’re in there,” he snarls from the other side. “You can come out now and make this easy. Or I can break my way inside and make this hard. Your choice.”

I step back, vomit rising into my throat.

Behind me, Hattie’s sitting with Marnie on the bed. Both look pale and scared. Priya’s shaking, hands wringing in front of her.

I brought Nunzio here. If I had only run⁠—

“Mommy!” Hattie sprints over and throws herself into my arms, and I’m sure I made the right call. I hug her tight and tell her it’ll be okay, even though I know this whole episode is going to be another year of therapy to unpack, assuming we make it through.

“Is there another way out?” I ask Priya and glance over to Marnie. “Do you have your phone?”

“It’s not working,” Marnie says. “What the fuck, June? Did that asshole go nuts?”

“There are windows, but—“ Priya doesn’t sound confident.

“Time’s up!” Nunzio shouts.

Then he slams into the door.

It shudders and shakes.

I back away with Hattie in my arms. She’s trembling, she’s so scared. I tell her it’ll be fine. Everything will be okay.

But I don’t know. I don’t know.

Windows. Drops. Escapes. There’s no good plan.

We’re trapped.

And as Nunzio keeps working on the door, I realize we’re out of time.

32

RAFE

The front of my truck smashes through the gate.

Metal parts like butter and sparks across the driveway. No time to slow down. I hit the gas harder, nearly swerving out of control up the steep hill, barreling toward the house in a frenzy.

Dread fills me.

There are no guards on duty.

Nobody manning the front. Nobody walking the trees. I’ve never come through here without spotting at least a half-dozen well-armed men before.

Cold horror spreads into my toes.

Is the problem bigger than I thought? Are they all traitors?