Page 52 of Skye

Hope opens her mouth to respond, but a loud bang draws both of our attention. I snap my gaze around and see a tall man standing in the doorway. The noise was the door hitting the plasterwork as he shoved it open.

His gaze roams the room before it locks on me, and my stomach sinks. I’ve been around dangerous men my entire life, and although they’ve never inflicted their violence upon me—not until recently anyway—some primal instinct urges me to my feet.

Hope does the same, standing as he rushes across the room like he’s possessed by evil.

“Trick! Stop!” she yells.

The other women are on their feet too, and Socket tries to stop him with an arm around his chest. The man must be strong because as big as Socket is, he can do nothing as the man—Trick—shoves him aside and throws a punch at him.

Pia shouts as her dad hits the floor, rushing to him, but all I’m focused on is the huge man barrelling towards me. Hope tries to stand in front of me as if she expects him to stop, but I’m not so sure.

I try to pull her away. She’s pregnant too, and I don’t want anyone else getting hurt because of me or my family.

“Move out of the fucking way, Hope,” he snarls, and my pulse roars in my ears.

Where the hell is Rage?

There are men in the room, but no one tries to defend either of us from him, and Socket is bleeding profusely from his face, though he does try to get up.

“I’m not moving,” she says, licking her lips.

He doesn’t like this answer. His face contorts into a furious mask. “You’d protect this bitch? Mara died—”

“Not because of her,” she interrupts. “Skye didn’t pull that trigger, Trick.”

“I don’t care. She’s got that fucker’s blood running through her.”

He rounds the table the opposite way, bypassing Hope and coming right at me. I scramble back, hitting chairs and tables, knocking something over too, but I don’t see what. My eyes remain glued to him as he grabs my throat, squeezing all the air from my windpipe.

I was afraid when I ran from the house, but this fear is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Terror explodes through my body, rendering my legs weak. It’s only the thought of my baby that gives me the strength to fight back.

I claw at his face, raking my nails down his cheek. Blood bubbles from the scratches, but he either doesn’t feel it or he doesn’t care. I can see the pain and anguish in his gaze, buried deep beneath the uncontrollable anger he has for me.

I hate my father for putting it there, but any guilt or remorse I might feel disappears as he tries to hurt me.

“Stop,” I beg him, my voice hoarse as I try to speak around his grip.

“Your father killed my wife. He took the only thing I ever gave a fuck about from me, so I’m gonna take you from him. Let him feel this agony.” In the small gap between us, he thumps his free fist against his chest. It reminds me of a silverback gorilla, ready to fight.

The nausea that rolls through me has nothing to do with the baby nestled inside my belly and everything to do with the absolute fear I’m experiencing.

I hear shouting. The shock seems to have lifted and the women are trying to pull him back from me. Pia has hold of his arm, trying to release his grip on my throat, but they’re no match for him, and I’m not either. He towers over me, and his strength is iron.

I’m sorry, little baby… I can’t stop this.

Just as I’m about to give up hope, movement catches my attention and a thick, tattooed arm wraps around Trick’s neck, dragging him back as if he’s nothing.

I’m tugged forwards a few steps before I’m released. I collapse against a table, holding my bruised throat as I gasp for air, but my eyes don’t leave the scene in front of me as I’m shown exactly why Beau earned the name Rage.

CHAPTER14

RAGE

“He’s increased the reward money for Skye’s return.”

Howler’s words don’t surprise me, not in the slightest. I knew Richardson would keep hunting his daughter, and not because he loves her but because of his pride. No man in his position wants to admit they can’t keep control of their own house.

“Are there any bites?” I drum my fingers on my knee under the table, needing to do something so I don’t release all the tension growing inside me.