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“I know how to handle people like Zane,” Brian insists.
“You’re in no state to handle anything right now!” I cry in frustration. Why won’t he let anyone help him? I want to shake some sense into that stubborn head of his before he gets himself killed.
“Tanya, drop it.” His voice softens. “Please. I don’t want you involved in this mess any more than you already are.”
I stare at him, torn between worry, anger, and affection. How did I fall for someone so reckless? But I can’t give up on him.
“I’m already involved,” I say quietly. “And the problem is not going anywhere.”
Brian chuckles, then winces in pain. My heart clenches at the sight.
“You need to see a doctor,” I insist again. “At least call your daughter. She should know you’re hurt.”
He shakes his head. “No. I don’t want her involved either. I’ve already seen the doctors”
“Well, I understand not wanting to involve Di…your daughter,” I say, almost allowing the familiar name to slip through my lips. “But you have to let the cops know. You can’t have it both ways.”
“No,” he says, obstinately. He shakes his head, jaw set in a stubborn line. “I’m not calling the cops.”
Frustration boils up in me, hot and sharp. “Why the hell not? Do you have a death wish?”
“I don’t trust the police. I can handle this myself.”
“You can’t handle this by yourself!” I cry. “You were attacked and badly hurt. You could have been killed, Brian.”
“Drop it, Tanya.” He stands firm, but I’m too angry to back down.
“No, I won’t drop it! I care about you, you idiot, and I’m not going to sit by while you slowly kill yourself out of sheer stubbornness and paranoia!”
His eyes look at me affectionately. I realize with a start what I just admitted in my outburst of temper. Heat floods my cheeks, but I hold his gaze. I do care for him, far more than I should. And I’m terrified of losing him to his own recklessness.
“I’ve lived my life on my terms, Tanya. I will continue to do so.”
I pull away, wiping my eyes. Why doesn’t he get it? Whatever happens to him affects me too. Right now, he’s self-sabotaging and he can’t even see it!
“You need help, Brian. Real help. And if you won’t get it…” I take a shaky breath. “Then I have to go.”
“Tanya…” he says. “You’re acting ridiculous.”
“Maybe I am,” I say, standing up to grab my keys and walking toward the door. “But at least I’m not suicidal.”
Chapter sixteen
Humble Pie
Brian
I dial Tanya’s number for the fifth time today, clutching the phone so hard my knuckles turn white. Voicemail. Again.
Damn it. I miss her voice and her smile. I miss the way she fits against me like a puzzle piece. I’m such an idiot for pushing her away. But I can’t think about that now. I have to focus on keeping her and Diane safe, even if it means Tanya wants nothing to do with me.
Zane is out there, lurking, waiting to strike. My chest tightens as I imagine his hands on Diane, his knife slicing into her soft skin. No. I slam my fist into the wall, his threat turning into too-real images in my head. I relish the burst of pain, a distraction from my fears. I will not let that happen.
I stride to the garage and grab my gun safe. The cold metal in my hands steadies my rage as I enter the combination. Inside are the tools to end this once and for all: a nine-millimeter pistol, a hunting knife, and brass knuckles. My fingers close around the knife’s hilt. Zane thinks he can terrorize us without consequences. He thinks he has the upper hand just because he knows where I live and what I did. He thinks he knows who I am. A white-collar do-gooder. He’s wrong.
I tuck the knife into my belt and slam the safe shut. The gun goes into the back of my jeans. There’s no more waiting around while Zane plots his next move. Tonight, I’m taking the fight to him. I’m going to find the scumbag, and I’m going to end this. For Diane, for Tanya, for Bennett. I’m prepared to defend the people I love, no matter the cost. Zane’s messed with the wrong man this time. He’ll soon learn that if you come after what’s mine, you’ll face the devil himself. And when it’s over, he’ll regret the day he stepped foot on my property.
The next morning, I’m in the middle of target practice in my backyard when Diane pulls up. Damn. In my single-minded focus on preparing for Zane, I completely forgot she was coming over today. I hastily unload my pistol and stash it in the shed, along with the array of knives I’ve been sharpening. No traces of my plans can remain. Diane can never know what I’m about to do.
