Fury on Fire (Devil's Rock #3)(50)

She opened her mouth to speak, but his hand shot out to wrap around her throat and she gasped. It was the last bit of air she was able to draw through her lips as hard fingers dug like knives into her.

“You’re up late. Having trouble sleeping, you child-stealing bitch?” His eyes were like ice. Cold and furious.

Her lips worked, trying to form words. Speech was impossible. Choked, gurgling sounds spilled from her lips. She brought her hands up to claw at his hand around her throat. It did no good. She used her nails, scratching and digging at his flesh.

Oh my God. This wasn’t happening. She was becoming a Dateline episode. She could imagine it now. The headline flashed through her mind.

Woman Strangled to Death on Her Front Porch.

No. It would not happen. Her life would not end like that.

She let go of his hands on her throat. Giving up that battle, she attacked his face, sinking her nails deep into his gaunt cheeks.

Grimes released her throat with a curse. She fell back, colliding with her door and sliding down. She struggled to rise to her feet, but he was back on her, his hands grabbing, bruising.

“Mr. Grimes! Stop! Please!”

“You didn’t think I would forget you, did you? You stole my boy!”

“I understand your distress, but the court—”

“Distress? You understand my distress?” Spit flew from his lips. He hauled her closer, his hard hands digging into her arms, crushing and painful. “You can’t talk your way out of this. I see what you really are. A cold vicious bitch who likes to destroy happy families.”

All attempts at diplomacy flew out the window. He was delusional. “Happy families? Your family was not happy or even a family.”

His eyes flared. He slapped her and gave her a shake.

She kicked and struggled and screamed. Someone had to hear. Someone would come.

She managed to wrest one arm free and land a blow to his face. He staggered and shook his head. When he fixed his gaze on her again his expression mirrored the same astonishment she felt. She had never struck another person in her life. Even with two older brothers, they had always been mindful never to be overly physical with her. As children, they never so much as shoved at her. She had never been forced to defend herself.

Shaking off his shock, he came at her with a roar. She braced herself for further pain, turning her face sideways and jamming her eyes tightly shut.

The pain never came.

Suddenly she was free. Released.

She fell back a step, falling against the door, her hand flying to her throat. Her eyes opened, searching wildly.

Grimes was gone. A shirtless North filled her vision. He moved like a panther, all fluid muscle. Speed and force and fury.

She hadn’t heard his approach. Not that she had seen much beyond the man attempting to steal the life from her.

Pressed against the expanse of her door, she could only watch. Stare and marvel at the fury of North Callaghan. She had never seen the like. The man was a firestorm, a hurricane of rage. Bone smacked bone as he hammered blow after blow.

In this moment, this man appeared capable of murder. His face was twisted into an expression of rage, so unlike the impassive expression he usually wore. She shuddered and brought her arms around herself, hugging tightly.

Grimes was under him now and North kept hitting him and hitting him, breathing hard, angry pants as he swung his fists over and over.

She heard her voice emerge. It sounded tinny and far away even to her ears. “North! Stop! You’ll kill him!”

Other voices arrived then, too. Down the street people surfaced, coming out of their houses to investigate the commotion.

“North! North!” Fear for him fueled her. She stepped forward to seize his arm, her voice urgent and desperate. “You need to stop.”

He did not even seem to hear her. He was a man possessed. He shook off her grip, so she added a second hand clutching him harder, shaking him harder, not to be deterred.

He straightened suddenly and turned on her, swinging around, a savage light in his eyes, as though he meant to strike her next. She lunged back a step with a gasp, her hand flying to her face as though to shield herself.

North stopped and shook himself. Blinking, he stared at her as though coming out of a daze. “Faith,” he whispered and his voice sounded broken. It took everything in her not to go to him then. Not to wrap her arms around him.

“What’s happening here?” a neighbor walking up her driveway called.

She held North’s stare. “North . . . are you okay?”

He looked down at his hands. She followed his gaze, noting his cracked knuckles. She made a small sound of distress at the apparent damage.

He looked back up at her, his eyes ravaged. He moved forward in a few jerking steps. She didn’t shrink away as he came at her with his wrecked hands.

He said her name again. “Faith?” He took her face in his hands, angling her chin higher so that the porch light hid nothing. His breath escaped him in a hiss at whatever he saw. His hands slid lower, his fingers grazing her tender neck and making her wince.

“He did this to you.” He made a growling sound and made a move toward Grimes as though he intended to finish his beating.

She snatched hold of him and tugged him back to her, her hands tight on his waist. “North, no. Leave it be.” She glanced around uneasily at the gathering of neighbors.

Grimes lay on the ground, moaning and writhing. He would not be getting up without assistance. She sighed. There was nothing to be done for it. They would have to call the police and an ambulance. She stifled a groan. The city police department worked closely with the sheriff’s office. Once her name was given, the SHPD would immediately notify her brother. She would have to file a report. Press charges.