Page 26 of Married to the Devil

That takes the fight out of me. I go limp, sobbing. “Please, don’t hurt her. Leave her alone. Take me⁠—“

“Plan on it,” he mumbles, wrenching my hands behind my back. “Hold still⁠—“

Something dark looms behind my attacker. It’s enormous. Shoulders, arms, jeans. Another man, this one in a black t-shirt. He grabs my attacker by the skull with one huge palm, yanks his head back, and jabs his other fist into his throat. He gouges at eyes, ripping one free. Blood sprays as my attacker falls sideways, screaming, and the big man’s on top of him, hand wrapped around throat, squeezing hard, other fist pummeling over and over.

More blood sprays, drenching this fresh nightmare.

I gasp, trying to scramble away, crying as my attacker goes limp.

And my savior stands to look at me.

Dark hair. Handsome jaw. Full lips.

Gray eyes like a stormy sea. Like Rafe.

Like Hattie.

“Time to come with me.”

I stare at him, too dumb and afraid and hurt to make sense of that. “My daughter. Where’s my daughter?”

“Safe. I have people coming. But we have to go.”

“No, I have to see her. Hattie, I have to⁠—“

The man strides over. He grabs me by the arm and drags me to my feet. I try to struggle, but he’s like iron. I hit him in the chest and he doesn’t even flinch.

“Timeline’s been moved up. We have to go right now.”

“Marnie, oh god, Marnie. Please, you have to help her. And Hattie⁠—“

“No more talking.” His hand tightens painfully. I gasp, bending sideways like I’m trying to escape.

“Who are you? What’s going on?” My dead attacker’s blood spreads from his maimed eyes and his ruined mouth, a horrific death-mask. “Oh god, what did you do?”

I’m dragged from the kitchen. I look back, thinking, Marnie, please, Marnie, don’t be dead, until we reach the front door. He mutters something to himself, clearly unhappy, pulls out a phone, and sends a quick text.

“You can’t leave my daughter alone. Please, don’t do this⁠—“

He shoves me outside. I stagger and nearly fall down the stoop. I open my mouth to scream for help but he’s on me, one big palm covering my lips.

“If you make this hard, I can’t guarantee your safety. I can’t promise your daughter will live through the night, and I sure as fuck can’t keep your friend from dying at the bottom of your basement steps. So listen to me now, June. You will get in my car. You will keep your mouth shut, or I will gag you. And you will do as you’re told. Do you understand?”

I gaze into those familiar eyes, hating him and too scared to do anything about it. “Just don’t hurt my daughter.”

“Like I’d ever touch a kid,” he grumbles, pulling me to a truck parked nearby. “In the back.”

I do as I’m told. He gets behind the wheel.

“Who are you? Where are you taking me?”

He ignores my first question.

But the answer to my second is worse than I ever imagined.

“We’re headed to the wedding. Looks like the ceremony’s getting moved up.”

9