“I’m going after Bethany,” I said, rushing past him.
“No,” my husband growled, grabbing my wrist. “We need to talk.”
“Get your bloody hands off me,” I snapped and pushed him back.
Blood dripped off his hands, the skin on his knuckles broken open. What is he thinking? Is beating Bethany up what he had to do for work today?! How can he do this? We had been on vacation all week long. She couldn’t have done anything!
What is he thinking? Is beating Bethany up what he had to do for work today?! How can he do this?Blinded by rage and upset that my husband—who I trusted—would nearly kill my best friend without telling me anything, I shook my head and glared at the man. From the moment that I’d met him, I had known he was a monster, but I … I couldn’t believe what he had done.
What he was cap
