She nodded, walked to the bed, and climbed up. She pulled the blanket over herself and lay stiffly waiting for him.
He chuckled when he saw her. “You look like you’re going to be tortured.”
“I heard my mother cry out, and it wasn’t in pleasure, so yeah, I’m scared.”
“Your fucking father. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll kill him.”
“I want to be the one to pull the trigger.”
He turned off the overhead light and slid into bed, then he placed his hand over her stomach. “Hell no. As your husband, it’s my job to protect you.”
“You can be there, but I need to kill him for all the pain he’s put my mom through over the years.”
“You won’t. I forbid it.”
“You can’t do that.”
“I can, and I will. Have you ever killed someone?”
“No, but it won’t bother me to kill him.”
When she shivered, he pulled her against his body. “But it will. No matter how much you hate him, taking his life will affect you.”
“Won’t it affect you if you do it?”
“No, because I’m a man, and I was raised to protect this family.”
“Have you killed?”
He studied her for a moment and then nodded. “Yes. Does that bother you?”
She shook her head. “No, it’s the way we were brought up. Violence is a part of it.”
“Yes, it is.”