Page 94 of Beautiful Chaos
“It’s really no problem,” Cat responds.
I glance at her when her voice seems to be drifting away. She wobbles on her seat. After a minute, I realize it’s not her who’s unsteady, but me. I slam my hand on the counter to keep myself upright as my vision blurs.
My eyes jerk to Jimmy, the small movement making my swaying body stumble to the side. I barely catch myself from ass planting on the floor.
“Hunter? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
I ignore Cat’s question, unable to look away from Jimmy. His lips are curved into a smile I’ve never seen on his face before. It’s nasty and filled with twisted glee.
“What in the fuck have you done?” Even to my own ears, my voice sounds warbled, like I’m talking through a ton of cotton.
“Giving you what you’ve been wanting.” He gets up from his seat.
From my peripheral vision, I see Cat get up, but Jimmy grabs a handful of her hair before she makes it far. Her scream is cut short when Jimmy shoves her against the bar, smashing her head down on the granite.
He runs his hand down her hair like she’s his fucking pet. “I heard you’ve been looking for me.”
My whole fucking world crashes down on me. Even as my vision becomes hazy, red still bleeds across the edges. I’ve been so goddamn stupid.
I fight the darkness closing in around me, but whatever Jimmy slipped into the wine bottle is too strong. I grit my teeth, my legs losing their battle to stay upright.
Just before I crash to the floor, I say one word.
“Whisper.”
ChapterThirty-Six
Hunter
My mouth feels like it’s full of cotton and a thousand drums beat along the inside walls of my skull. As I lift my head and open my eyes, the brightness of the room blinds me, making my head pound harder.
I try to raise my arms, but they won’t move. Dropping my chin to my chest, I stare down at the reason. I’m sitting in a chair with my arms pulled behind me. It’s then that I feel the roughness of a rope around my wrists. My legs are also attached to the chair.
Memories of Jimmy in the kitchen, sitting beside Cat at the bar, flash through my mind. Soon after comes the revelation I made right before I blacked out.
Whisper.
This whole fucking time, he was right under our goddamn noses.
Lifting my groggy head, I survey the room. Our living room. And across from me only a few feet away is my wife. She’s lying on her back on the coffee table. Her arms are pulled above her head with a rope wrapped securely around her wrists, which is attached to the legs of the table. Her body is pulled down to the other end until her butt nearly hangs off the edge. Her legs are spread and kept open with rope wrapped around the top by her knees all the way down to her ankles. Like her wrists, she’s bound to the legs of the table. A piece of duct tape covers her mouth.
My only consolation is she still has her dress on. But how long will that last?
As if sensing my gaze, she turns her head. Her beautiful blue eyes are wide and filled with terror.
“It’s okay, Cat,” I say, my voice scratchy from whatever drug Whisper put in the bottle of merlot. I thank Christ that Cat didn’t have any of it. “I’m going to get you out of here.”
“It’s not nice to lie to your wife, Hunter,” a voice says off to my right. Jimmy or Whisper or whatever the fuck his name is, comes into view. “After all, Caterina is lying in her final resting place.”
I tug on the ropes around my wrist to no avail. They’re so tight it’s damn near cutting off blood circulation.
“You’re Whisper,” I state needlessly. We’ve well past established that he is, but if I keep him talking it might buy me time to figure a way to get Cat and me out of this shit. “I underestimated you.”
I move my gaze to the window, which faces the front of the house. The curtains are closed, meaning no one can see inside, including Damon.
Whisper grins and walks over to where Cat’s lying. “You did.” Cat whimpers and jerks against the rope when he touches her knee. He trails his fingers up her thigh, moving the dress upward. His head swings back to me. “I have to say, watching you this whole time, looking for me, seeing the life you have with Cat, witnessing the struggles she goes through, knowing there wasn’t a damn thing you could do, gave me much more enjoyment than I thought it would.”
“Get your filthy fucking hands off her,” I growl. I don’t look at Cat when her whimpers become muffled cries. If I do, I won’t be able to keep my cool, and that’s what I need to do right now.