care givers, and if she chose, he’d allow her to pick a man. He could be reasonable.
As they walked into the bedroom it became clear Charles had finished with his wife. Luckily the young thing was still breathing. She was curled in a ball crying, while the ass tried to comfort her. Yes, John had heard how Charles was always trying to make up for his transgressions. What the other man didn’t understand was that he wasn’t allowed to hurt the women. They were all property of the Prophet. Only John the Prophet was allowed to choose who was worthy to live, or die.
Troy didn’t need to be told what to do. He jerked Charles out of the bed with ease. John ignored his follower’s nakedness, focusing on the whimper of the young girl who looked up at him with fear.
“It’s okay, now. I will see to it you are safe and protected. Charles is no longer your husband. If there is a child of the union, we will cherish him or her as is only right, but you will never have to fear the man again.” He brushed her hair back from her tear stained face.
She really was quite lovely. He should never have given him another wife. John didn’t make mistakes often.
“Thank you, Prophet.” Her voice quivered.
By the time he stood from his crouched position, Troy had left with Charles. John appreciated the silence with which he handled all things. For all he knew Troy had snapped the other man’s neck right then and there. John didn’t want to know, nor did he care.
“Go take a shower. I’ll have one of the elders come for you. Charles has passed from a heart attack. It was quite sudden, and you will be upset for a few days. I’m sure you understand.” John gave her a look that brooked no argument. She’d been born into the Following. Her mother wasn’t one of his wives, but she was loyal. Again, she nodded, but got up on shaky legs, the sheet wrapped around her like a shield. John could have ordered her to leave it, but he wasn’t that big of a sadist.
He thought of waiting for Troy, but decided to get the business of the elder to take care of Charles’ widow done. A few quick calls and he had two women rushing to the room. One was from house cleaning. She expected the regular mess, the other was there to take care of the new widow.
Shooting a text to Troy, he let him know he was heading to his own suite of rooms. He had his own wife’s death to plan.
Chapter Seven
Felicity was enough to drive a sane man crazy. Hal wondered if he ever truly was. Sane that is. His nana told him to accept what was even if he couldn’t see it, in her heavy brogue, but he’d ignored her. He’d fought to keep himself under control, having learned he could injure those he cared about if he didn’t. Yeah, Hal wasn’t letting his inner beast out without a tether. Especially not around Felicity. She’d already been through too much. The last thing he would want to do was scare her, let alone hurt her.
He dropped her off after spending the afternoon eating at a restaurant that served more than soup and salads. They’d picked up his rental since it was larger than her flashy car and much roomier for his large frame. Hal was pleased to see her enjoying the food. They’d walked hand in hand along the beach for hours after, where he’d learned more about her passion for designing clothes. She definitely knew what to wear to maximize her curves, and what drew out her colors. He’d seen the way people had stared as they’d walked past them. When he’d mentioned it to her, she’d laughed it off, saying it was because of his size. Hal shook his head at her naiveté. The woman had no clue just how beautiful she truly was. Her husky voice was enough to make his dick stand up at full attention in the middle of the posh restaurant. Hal had placed the napkin over his lap to hide the monster, out of necessity.
“Are you going to sit there and daydream about your woman, or are you going to tell me what your plans for the future are?”
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