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Strike two.
Even if she weren’t out on a date with him right now, I still wouldn’t like him.
I’d stood at the door, watching him drive off with her until the taillights disappeared, then I’d spent the next few hours putting Finn to bed and keeping myself busy. But even forty-five minutes of boxing didn’t help. And I couldn’t care less about the documentary I’d randomly put on, something about military tanks. But at least I could sort of convince myself I wasn’t watching the door for Kennedy to come home.
Because this washer home.
As I swallowed a sip of beer, I noticed headlights out of the corner of my eye. I set the bottle down on the table and strolled to the door, crossing my arms like some angry dad, waiting for their kid to walk in past curfew.
But Kennedy was no kid, and she had no curfew. She was all woman, and I hoped to god she wasn’t planning on bringing that asshole inside.
With his car parked in the driveway, I had a hard time making out Kennedy and Jordan, even with the porch light on, but it appeared as if they were having a heated discussion. I adjusted my glasses and squinted for a better focus, leaning in, as if I’d be able to hear them. It was ridiculous, but this was what I was reduced to now. Creeping on my son’s nanny, driven mad by jealousy and lust.
After a few minutes, the passenger side door opened, and Kennedy got out. I could see the clear frown on her face. I didn’t like that.
Jordan was out of his car too, racing around the hood to hold her wrist. I couldn’t hear what he was saying to her, but I understood it was nothing good with how he spun her back to him. Every muscle in my body went rigid as I watched him snarl in Kennedy’s face.
She tried to twist away from him, but he didn’t let her go. In fact, he pulled her closer with his fingers in her hair so her face was tipped up to him. And I think I blacked out for a second. Actually lost myself in space and time.
Then, all of a sudden, I was on the move, my vision focused on the pinpoint of Jordan’s hands on Kennedy.
“Let me go,” I heard her saying, her voice cracking, and I jumped down the three steps from the front door.
“Who are you fucking? Somebody from your show? That guy you’re always talking about?” Jordan practically spat, and it felt like I was blazing a path of fire across the grass. I was surprised the earth wasn’t ash under my feet.
This asshole was still talking. “Getting paid to fuck him while living in his house, huh?”
“Shut up!” Kennedy shouted, smacking at Jordan, and I was close enough to see the side of her face, the tears streaking down it.
I was going to murder him.
Snatching hold of his left wrist, I made sure he released her hair, then with my other arm, I towed Kennedy away from him. “I believe she told you to let her go.”
I stepped in front of him, blocking his path to her, and the heart-wrenching sob she let out when she said my name had me momentarily losing my focus.
“Get in the house,” I told her.
“Kennedy!” Jordan pushed past me, his hand reaching for her, but I was on him in an instant.
We were about the same height and build, both of us a bit over six feet and lean, but with the adrenaline coursing through my veins, I think I could’ve tossed him into a cement truck and then pushed the whole fucking thing into the ocean. I wrapped my hands around his collar, stopping him short so our heads almost crashed together. “Take one more step toward her, and I will end you.”
He pushed at me, andthiswas what I’d been training for. I spared one glance over my shoulder. “Kennedy, get in the house.”
“But—”
“Now!”
I heard her breathy gasp again, but I was too fixated on the son of a bitch in front of me to worry about her right now. I had to deal with him first.
“Get your fucking hands off me!” He attempted to twist in my hold, pivoting his hip to throw an arm around my neck, but I expected that and landed a hook to his kidney on the other side. He reflexively started to double over, but I didn’t let him. Instead, I held him up by his collar.
“Yo! I told you!” He brought his right fist up, telegraphing his move, and I shoved him back so his punch didn’t connect. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“I watched you put your hands on Kennedy. So, yeah, I’m gonna put my hands on you since you clearly need to be taught a lesson.”
He charged forward, his shoulders down like he was going to tackle me. When he was close enough, I hit him with an uppercut, followed immediately by another hook. I didn’t even feel the pain in my knuckles with each strike.
He stumbled back, clutching his side, but I took hold of him again, driving him back until he was up against his car. “If you ever come near Kennedy again, you won’t just be seein’ me, but I’ll be bringin’ my brothers, too,” I said, low and slow to make sure he understood my words. Fury wrapped around each syllable, tighter than my fists in this asshole’s shirt, and it was impossible to keep my hometown accent from coming out. “I got one who’s good with knives, another who pours cement, and one’s already been to prison. You get me?”
