Chapter Eleven
Titus rose from his bed, troubled. He paced about his chamber trying to eliminate the pictures in his brain, and ease the burden weighing heavily in his chest. His inner anger built like a stallion going from cater to gallop. It rushed on him with such grand force that he suddenly whirled around and rammed a fist into the hefty oaken door. Not a splinter, but his knuckles came away bloody.
“The blasted b***h!” he roared with his head falling back and his voice rising as a scream.
He bolted from the room a moment later and moved briskly toward the stairs.
***
The thick rope binding Casia and Katleen’s wrists had been slackened so that they could slump to the floor and rest their aching arms. That was how Titus found them, reclining into each other, their naked bodies g
