"I can't believe you're going with her!" Arabella shrieked, standing in the kitchen in her cotton nightgown with her fists tightly clenched.

She shook so violently, that the idea of her socking me in the face played out in my head.

The thrill of it tickled me to smile, but I composed myself, schooling my face into outright shock and smoothed into understanding with a furrow of my brow. Arousal wasn't something I needed to have in a fight over one of my wife's nemeses.

Who just so happened to be the blood analyst in the new murder investigation I was in charge of.

"Bella," I frowned, setting down the newspaper in my hand and walking my way to her, "You know better than anyone that it's not exactly my decision. Especially traveling to the middle of buttfuck nowhere Texas with Evelyn Harkright."

Arabella started to speak, but her breath caught as tears filled her mint-green eyes. "But, you could always say no-"

My heart clenched at the sight of her despair, filling my head with pounding hot fury that not even the squeeze of her hand or the sound of her laugh could subdue.

Evelyn Harkright was a demon, one so full of herself and her future in life that she so willingly stepped on the wings of the angel in front of me.

She deserved to suffer for what she did to my wife.

"Someone died, Honey," I consoled, my fingers finding their resting place on her cheek and doing their only needed purpose of wiping the tears from her face. "Let Harkright and I serve justice for the poor fuck and I'll get her transferred as soon as I can."

She stared up at me for a few moments before succumbing to my warm embrace and leaning into my touch, burying her face into my shoulder. "You're right, you're right."

The silence that followed was peaceful as I held her tightly in my arms and swayed in the kitchen on the balls of my feet.

I loved this woman with my whole soul. The need to be 'right' was never the issue at hand, but her joy and comfort. I hated every second I breathed, but I doted on every breath she made. She was the rock from which I stand, the being that kept me tethered to this useless existence people decided to deem life.

For anyone to hurt her, was to threaten my entire purpose.

"I'm sorry I got so worked up, I know it's silly to still be mad at her about high school," Arabella drawled on with a slight laugh, her dark hair framing her face in a mess of strands. "I mean she just-

"I'll stop you right there," I tutted, smiling down at her as I brushed the hair away from her tanned face. "For anyone to make my wife cry, they are wicked."

"Grant-"

"I won't hear it!" I continued, firming my hold on her waist and picking her up with ease. "They all deserve death! Torment!"

Her laughter filled my ears as I spun her in the air. The sound peeled like a grand bell, a sound so beautiful it could heal millions in seconds as it healed my rotten soul in the blink of an eye.

"Oh my god, Grant!" She squealed, hitting me weakly with the palms of her hands. "You're such a brute!"

"Your brute," I grinned, hovering her closer and kissing her with the passion that my soul continuously sang whenever she was in my presence.

---

Laughing, I shake my head and pull my mind from the memory of the morning with my wife and back to the task at hand. "Apologies, Harkright, I lost myself for a moment there,"

Evelyn's brown eyes are wide as she stares at me, tears streaming down her face as her wrists tug at the chains that bind her to the large steel slab table.

"Please, Grant, please, I don't understand," She sobs, her voice scratchy with useless attempts at screaming herself free from the desolate grey room I entrapped her in.

Evelyn would never be heard, not even from a mile away, I made sure of it.

As I always did.

"It doesn't matter what you understand or don't," I hum an off-tune song, placing my gloved hand on the rim of my plastic face shield and pushing it down. "You hurt my wife."

Surveying the space, I search for exactly what is needed next.

"Your wife?" Evelyn shakes, her eyes frantic as she searches for whatever I'm trying to find behind her. "Do you mean, oh god, is this about p-prom?"

She chokes on what I can only deem as disbelief and she begins to cry again, pulling at her restraints in a defiant rage.

Of course, she could not possibly understand this deserved end, I could scoff at how typical her outburst was. They never seemed to understand the gravity of their actions toward my wife.

"We were 18, for fucks sake!" She kicks out her legs, her chest heaving as the sound of metal clangs. "Holy fuck, holy fuck, all I did was win prom queen-"

"Ah, there," I murmur to myself, spotting the chainsaw near the entrance. Sometimes I forgot where I put my things during these little events, the passion seemed to blur it all.

"No! No!" The demon half sob-scream whaled on, her existence angering me every second she stayed breathing, "You're deranged, you sick fuck! Arabella-"

The energy in the room shifted and I turned, flinging a knife at her from across the room.

The blade flew, finding its home in her right hip and, immediately, her screams filled the space.

"You do not speak of her. She cannot save you." I huff, lifting the chainsaw with my hand and holding it firmly.

"Save me? Save me?" Evelyn's voice was shaking as she began hyperventilating, her eyes glued to the blood pooling beneath her hip wound as I made my way over to the table. "Oh, god-"

"He cannot save you either."

The pull of the chainsaw echos around me and its purr hums beneath my fingertips as I serve my only purpose.

Protecting Arabella.

And, the blood sprays.