Ready Or Not (The Hunter’s Club #2)

Chapter 23

23

Therapy - VOILA

After checking out the structure fire, I drove around all night looking for Riley. The fire had her style all over it. They said it was more than likely arson since the living room, in particular, was so severely burned. The fire burned so hot there that it melted the vinyl siding on the front edge of the house. So, the person—Riley—used an accelerator.

There was also a body found, charred to a crisp. They’re going to conduct an autopsy on him, but I already know the answer. Riley killed him.

But why? I couldn’t find much on him. He graduated high school in the area and didn’t do much afterward. His parents are rich farmers, and it looks like he had his whole life set up for him.

Which, I’m sure, pissed Riley off.

I grip my hands harder on my bike. I don’t like playing catch-up.

My phone rings through my headset, and I answer it. “Yeah?”

“Hey, you told me to call you if that plate shows up.”

“Where,” I grind.

“Uhhh, the sheriff's office. Like thirty minutes ago.”

“Jesus.” I pull a U-turn. That’s not too far from here. Why in the hell was she going there?

“Why didn’t you call me earlier?” I’m already planning his death. This man is useless.

“I was on another call, Jesus. I didn’t see it till just now.”

I grit my teeth.

“There’s something else you should know. She uh…she filed a report on you.”

“What?” I can’t keep the bite out of my tone.

“Yeah. Said you hit her. I’ll send you a pic.”

I yank my bike to the side of the road and dig my phone out of my pocket. He texted me a picture of Riley, her face red like she’s been crying. And she has a black eye.

What in the ever loving…

“So like…I can squash it, but just know any more, and we’ll get people breathing down our necks. The state is serious about that stuff when you’re married.”

My phone buzzes, and I glance down. It’s a blocked number. I end the call I’m on, then hit the accept button.

There’s silence on the other line.

“Riley,” I growl.

“Oh hey!” She sounds cheerful. “If it isn’t the wife beater himself.”

I try to hold the anger back, but it seeps into my words. “What are you doing?”

“Talking to you,” she says, flippantly.

This little…

“I didn’t realize that we were married, husband .”

I grit my teeth. I had us married legally as soon as she turned 18, although I didn’t change her last name, so I didn’t tip her off. I wanted to keep her safe, and an owned woman is a safe woman in my world. This isn’t the way I wanted her to find out, though.

That bruise looked pretty real. “Who are you with? Who touched you?”

“You did,” she chirps. “Or didn’t you read the police report?”

“Riley, enough.”

“No, Manson.” Her voice gets angry. “You told me to prove myself. So I’m doing it.”

“Offer is off the table.” I keep Bluetooth on, throw my phone in my pocket, and fly down the road, doing a hundred to get to the last place she was seen. “I’m going to make your life a living hell.”

“Already have. That threat won’t work anymore, Manson. I’m going to find a new target, and you’re gonna stay out of my way. Got it?”

“No, don’t you—” the line goes dead.

“Fuck.” She could be anywhere by now. There’s no way she’s still at the station.

I check anyway.

Nothing.

Despite my rage, there’s a flicker of amusement. I’m done running around the town. I have to strategize. Research. Find out everything I can about Rachel and everything I don’t know about my wife so I can take her down once and for all. And by down, I mean under my thumb and out of trouble. When I find her, I’m never letting her out of my sight.