Less than a week after Remi’s ill-conceived call to Camille, security footage of her attacking Warren in the hospital was leaked to the press.

The entire story had blown up again, the flames fed this time with quotes from the Vorhees.

She’d pretended it didn’t bother her. But Brick knew better. Every time she came in from the studio, green eyes rimmed red, Brick vowed to destroy the man. Take him apart piece by piece for every moment of pain he’d caused her.

So he’d begun in the most natural place. By alerting Vorhees that there was an obstacle. Him.

“What the fuck did you do?” Remi’s reaction had been loud and emotional. “Are you trying to make yourself a target?”

It was exactly why he’d sent the pictures to Rajesh. One Kimber had taken of them locked in an embrace in Remi’s studio as they flirted with an argument about dinner. Another, a selfie Remi had taken of the two of them in bed. She was beaming at the camera while Brick watched her with an undeniable hunger, his hand clamped over her shoulder and neck. It reflected only a tenth of the possessiveness he felt over her. But it served a purpose. It sent a message.

It had taken her agent less than two hours to have the pictures appearing on dozens of blogs and news sites.

Then he’d gone to the chief. Once the screaming match between mother and daughter was over, they’d prepared. They’d kept the circle small, including a few key members of the department, sticking with residents and year-rounders they knew they could trust. Chief Ford had also read in a few of the more trustworthy, eagle-eyed residents on the general situation. It was a small town. Someone would see him. Someone would report him.

“Maybe he’ll send someone to do his dirty work. Someone we won’t see coming?” Darlene mused beside him, steam rising from her coffee.

He shook his head. “He’ll want to end this himself. He’s hands-on that way.” The words tasted bitter in his mouth.

Brick’s father may have been cavalier when it came to things like the law and the gray areas between right and wrong, but the man had never raised a hand to a woman. It was a line that real men never crossed. “You’d better hope that we catch him first then,” Darlene said, her cool green gaze finding some far off point on the water to fixate on. “Some of our fine folks are itching for a good fight after that winter.”

“He’s mine,” Brick said coldly.

“I get that you want to be the one slapping the cuffs on him.”

He wondered what the chief would think if she knew exactly what he felt compelled to do to the man who’d almost ended Remi’s life. He should have wrestled with it himself. He was a man of the law. Of strong morals and a belief in rules and the reasons to follow them. But Vorhees wasn’t human and therefore didn’t deserve to have that same moral code applied to him.