Her hands go to her throat.
That’s all he needs.
Tightening his hold, he grabs his wife around the waist. He spins her around to set her next to Seth, who’s suddenly appeared.
“Stay here,” he tells Sal. To his brother, he says, “Keep her safe.”
Her eyes widen. “Luke, no.”
As he turns on his heel, she makes a grab for him, but Seth holds her tightly against him. She calls Luke’s name again, her voice faint and far away as he hurtles toward the house.
Luke barely hears her. And hell, normally, he’d always hear his wife. But not now, not today. Not when he’s existing on lethal rage. Not when he’s let Sal down.
Again.
Guilt lashes him like a whip.
Sprinting up the porch steps, he slips into the house. He hopes Roy’s stuck around for him because he’s gonna kill the motherfucker that’s hell-bent on taking a piece of his wife.
And he won’t feel bad about it.
Inside, it’s dim and quiet. Only the squeak of the old wood floors beneath Luke’s feet. No noise from any direction. Endless, eerie silence.
The thought of Sal alone, terrified as Roy cornered and attacked her, fills Luke with such fury and sorrow he can’t see straight.
Roy came here. Here. To their home. To do what to Sal—the thought has Luke spiraling.
Luke’s hands turn to fists. To hammers. He aches to crack a fist against something. Roy’s skull, preferably.
He’s furious.
Heart racing, he reaches into the closet for his shotgun.
There’s no doubt in Luke’s mind. He’s gonna shoot Roy and stand over him as he finishes dying.
He turns down the hallway. He yanks open door after door. Blood pumps loudly through his head, and Luke steels himself for what he might find.
Footsteps behind him.
He wheels around, finger on the trigger, leveling the shotgun.
“Goddamnit.” Luke sucks in a hard, deep breath. Lowers the barrel.
Sal and Seth.
The two of them hover in the foyer.
Luke exhales. He eyes Sal with frustration. “Sal, I told you to stay put.”
It’s taking all he has not to get pissed at his stubborn-as-hell wife who just walked into the barrel of a shotgun. He gives Seth a hard look. “You had one job, man.”
Seth’s expression is all apologies. “What can I say? She’s convincin’.” His eyes move past Luke, move to the shotgun. “Anyone here?”
“No.”
Sal goes to him, slipping her arm through his. “If you found him you’d kill him.” She lays a hand on his arm. “I can’t let you do that.” Her pretty face turns mean. “That’s my job.”
The cops stay at the house for hours, questioning Sal, searching the edge of the woods. They found tracks leading down to the old logging road. An enraged Luke ripped the cops a new one for leaving Sal alone and unprotected. They had left to switch shifts, but due to a miscommunication, a new surveillance team never arrived.