Cade POV
I didn't wait for the woman to knock.
I was out the front door and down the porch steps before she'd even finished slinging the camera strap over her shoulder. My boots hit the gravel hard. I planted myself between her and the house, my body blocking the path to the front door.
She stopped walking. Her eyes flicked over me in one quick, assessing sweep. She didn't look surprised. She didn't look afraid. She looked… professional.
"Can I help you?" I asked. My voice was flat. The voice I used with unidentified hostiles.
"I'm looking for Tessa Merrick," she said. Her voice was calm, level. "My name is Riley Kane."
"She's not available." I crossed my arms. My muscles were coiled tight. I was still seeing the welts on Tessa's arms. This woman, with her camera, felt like a threat.
Riley Kane didn't back up. "Are you Cade? Her brother?"
That threw me. "How do you know that?"
"She told me you were coming home soon. I'm glad you're here." Her gaze moved past me to the quiet house. "Is she inside? Is she okay?"
The genuine concern in her voice didn't match the cool look on her face. It was confusing. "Why do you have a camera?" I demanded.
"To document evidence," she said simply. She shifted her weight. "Your sister hired me, Cade. Three weeks ago. I'm a private investigator."
The words hung in the hot air. Hired her? For what? Tessa was hiding in a laundry room, covered in bruises. She hadn't mentioned hiring anyone.
"I don't believe you," I said.
"Check my ID. Call the number on the card." She slowly reached into her back pocket and pulled out a small wallet. She flipped it open, showing a private investigator's license and a business card. She held it out.
I took it, my eyes never leaving her face. The license looked real. The card said 'Riley Kane, Discreet Inquiries.' There was a phone number. It could all be fake.
"Tessa contacted me online," Riley explained, her voice lower now. "She said her in-laws were threatening her. She was scared. She wanted proof of what they were doing so she could go to the police. But she was too afraid to gather it herself."
The story lined up with the terror in Tessa's eyes. But it didn't explain everything. "Why are you here now?"
Riley's jaw tightened. "She missed our last check-in call. Two days ago. She doesn't answer her phone. That was our rule if she misses a call, I come. No questions." Her eyes met mine, and for the first time, I saw real worry in them. "Please. Let me see her. Let me know she's alive."
The word "alive" punched through my anger. I looked down at the business card in my hand. I thought of Tessa, alone and terrified, trying to get help from a stranger online because she couldn't trust anyone in her own town.
A small sound made us both turn.
The front door was open a crack. Tessa's pale face was peeking through the gap. Her eyes were locked on Riley.
"Tessa!" Riley said, her professional mask slipping for a second. She took a step forward, but I held up a hand.
Tessa pushed the door open wider. She was still wearing that huge flannel. She looked from Riley to me, her face full of confusion and fear.
"You… you came?" Tessa whispered to Riley.
"I told you I would," Riley said softly, like she was talking to a spooked animal. "Are you hurt?"
Tessa's eyes filled with fresh tears. She gave a tiny, shaky nod.
That was all I needed. I stepped aside. "Get inside," I said to Riley. "Now."
We all moved into the living room. The stale, hot air felt even heavier. Tessa sank onto the couch, pulling a blanket over her legs even though it was ninety degrees. Riley sat carefully in a chair opposite her. I stayed standing, leaning against the wall by the door, watching everything.
"What happened, Tessa?" Riley asked, pulling a small notebook from her pocket, not the camera.
Tessa's story spilled out in broken pieces. How the "kindness" from Ian's family after their marriage slowly turned mean. How the jokes became threats when they found out her grandmother left her the farm, not Ian. How Marcus, the father-in-law, demanded she sign the land over to the family. When she refused, the real torment started.
"It was just words at first," Tessa cried. "Then Ian's uncle shoved me into a wall. Ian… Ian just stood there. He said not to make them angry." She wiped her nose with her sleeve. "Then last month, Marcus… he had a belt."
My hands clenched into fists so tight my knuckles ached. I saw the welts on her arms again.
"Did you get it?" Tessa asked suddenly, her voice desperate. She leaned toward Riley. "Did you get the proof?"
Riley's face went grim. She looked from Tessa to me, then back. "I got more than proof," she said quietly. She reached for the laptop bag she'd carried in. "I have something. But you need to be ready, Tessa. And you," she said, looking straight at me. "You need to see this."
"See what?" I asked.
Instead of answering, Riley opened her laptop and turned the screen. It showed a video file named with a date from two weeks ago. "This was taken with a hidden camera I planted in the barn. They use the back room sometimes. For 'meetings.'" Her voice was full of disgust.
Tessa started to shake. "No. I don't want to see it. I was there. I remember."
"You need to see it," Riley said to me, her gaze hard. "You need to know exactly what you're dealing with."
She clicked play.
The video was grainy, but clear enough. It showed the dusty back room of the barn. Tessa was there, backed against a wall of hay bales. She was visibly pregnant, her hands cradling her belly. Seven men stood in a half-circle around her. I recognized Marcus from Tessa's wedding photos a big man with a cruel mouth. The others were his brothers.
One of them, a man with a red beard, was holding a coiled rope. Not a belt. A rope.
"Last chance, girl," Marcus's voice came through the laptop speaker, rough and cold. "Sign the papers."
"Please," Tessa on the screen begged, her voice trembling. "For the baby. Please don't."
Marcus nodded to Red Beard.
What happened next… I've seen war. I've seen bodies broken by IEDs. But this was different. This was slow. This was personal.
Red Beard didn't hit her with his fists. He flicked the rope. It cracked through the air and snapped against Tessa's legs. She screamed. A high, terrible sound. The men didn't move. They watched. One of them took a sip from a beer bottle.
"For the baby!" Tessa screamed again, trying to curl around her stomach.
"The baby will be a Colter," Marcus spat. "It'll get the land when you're gone. One way or another."
The rope snapped again. And again.
I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I watched my pregnant sister being tortured by eight men who laughed and drank beer. My vision tunneled until all I could see was the screen, the cruelty on their faces, the agony on hers.
And then the camera panned slightly, to the corner of the room.
Ian. Tessa's husband. My brother-in-law.
He was just standing there. His face was white, his eyes wide. He was chewing on his thumbnail. Watching. Doing nothing.
The video ended. The screen went black.
The silence in the living room was deafening. I could hear the blood roaring in my ears. My whole body was shaking with a rage so pure and hot it was blinding.
I looked at Tessa. She had her face buried in the blanket, her shoulders heaving with silent sobs.
I looked at Riley. She was watching me, her face a mask of grim understanding.
I walked to the front door. I yanked it open. The hot afternoon air rushed in.
"Where are you going?" Riley asked, her voice sharp.
I didn't turn around. My voice didn't sound like my own. It was the voice of something dark and deadly that had just broken loose inside me.
"To find them," I said. "And I'm going to kill every single one of them. Tonight."