He started to jump into his car, not even sure where he was heading, but knowing he’d spend his whole fucking day hunting down his father so he could put an end to whatever the fuck he was up to.
Clarissa’s voice whispered from behind. “Wait.”
Dread prickled the hairs at the nape of his neck, and he wanted to ignore her, but there was something about the agitation in her tone that had him turning around.
Skittish, she looked over her shoulder, clearly checking to make sure her father was still inside. Then she rushed over to Mack’s side, her words coming at him in a lowered hush, “He didn’t go into town.”
That dread spiked, barbs pricking his flesh. “Where the fuck is he?”
She peered through the woods in the direction of Izzy’s house before she set her gaze back on Mack. “You don’t belong with her, Mack, not at all. But I don’t want anything bad to happen to her, either, and I’m pretty sure your daddy is up to somethin’ real bad right now.”
He knew his father was a monster, but also, a coward. A fuckin’ coward who would take his fists to his wife and his little kid, hiding behind the cover of his shitty walls, never doin’ it out in the open.
She was agitated, rubbing her fingers together nervously. “Don’t tell my daddy I told you.”
Fuck. He wasn’t taking the chance. Didn’t give a fuck if Clarissa was messing with him the way she loved to do. Wielding her manipulation.
He just had to see her, his Little Bird, make sure she was safe and okay. Unharmed. Then he was going to hunt his father down and beat the fuck out of him, once and for all. Show him where he really stood. That he no longer had any control over his life.
Izzy’s father was away on a business trip, and he knew that left Izzy and her mama alone.
He bolted through the thicket of trees, taking the trail carved out by his nightly visits to her, the earth packed down, a pathway leading to his sanctuary.
He flew across the meadow and the tall copse of trees that separated their land on the opposite side. He burst out on the expansive lawn, and the massive house came into view, the scenery picture-perfect.
In it was a disorder.
A riot of distress.
He could feel it, and fear bottled up tight across his chest.
Immediately, he knew Clarissa hadn’t been spouting her normal BS.
He streaked across the lawn, as silently as he could, attention darting everywhere, searching for anything amiss. He glanced up at their tree, her window closed tight, and he rounded the front of the house.
Quietly climbing the steps, he crossed the porch and carefully, slowly tried to turn the knob.
Locked.
Fuck.
He angled his head back, for a second thinking Izzy and her mama must have went into town, but the feeling that sucked the peace out of the air promised they were there.
That something was very, very wrong.
Heart thundering in his throat, he jumped off the porch and wound around to the far right of the house where there was a side door that led into the kitchen.
Terror clutched his spirit when he saw one of the small square windows had been busted out, a few shards of sharp glass still hanging in the frame.
The door was partially ajar and resting on the jamb.
Dread curled around his being, and he drew in a breath as he inched up the two steps and nudged the door.
Creaking, it slowly swung open to the rambling kitchen. Rays of sunlight streaked in through the bank of windows at the back, almost blinding. Everything was completely still.
Too still.
Sweat lined his brow and dripped down his back, and he quieted his footsteps as he crossed the kitchen, his lungs locked tight when he barely opened the swinging door and peered out into the main room.
Oh God.
He almost buckled at the knees.
Disgust and hate and horror stabbed him in the gut.
Izzy’s mama was on her knees facing away from him. Her wrists tied behind her back. His father leered over her, a knife at her throat, spouting all the bullshit he’d spouted to Mack for all those years.
“You fuckin’ whore, puttin’ your nose in my business where it doesn’t belong. You really think I wasn’t gonna pay you back for puttin’ me in prison? For taking my wife away? Now my son?” He leaned in and growled the words up close to her face.
She trembled, and a low, terrified moan escaped her mouth.
“Debt’s come due, bitch.”
Rage clotted Mack’s blood, and he peered through the crack, desperate as he scanned the room for Izzy, petrified of what he might find at the same time.
Fear clouded his eyes when he didn’t see her, and the shame and horror that he had done this to them rose up so fiercely that he could no longer breathe.