Blood shunting away from her digestive organs, pooling in her major muscle groups, preparing her to run or collapse.
Her adrenal glands pumping out adrenaline and norepinephrine like a broken faucet.
She was back in survival mode.
And it broke me.
Goddamn it.
I stepped forward.
My fist came up.
Not a thought.
Pure instinct.
Pure animal protection.
Teyonah's eyes went wide. She shook her head—sharp, frantic.No. Don't.
Scott caught the movement and whipped around, his gaze bouncing between us. "What the—"
I forced my hand to unclench.
Forced my arm back down to my side.
My entire body vibrated with the effort of standing still.
Scott watched me. “What’s going on over here, buddy? Don’t be a hero. Just go back downstairs.”
I spoke through clenched teeth, “Have some respect when you talk to her.”
“Who are you to tell me how to talk to my wife?”
Teyonah hurried over to my side. “Hold on, Scott. He is—”
“You’d better not have been near my boys!”
If he’d known how close I was to them, he’d have choked on his own spit.
Due to Teyonah being closer, I steadied myself. Her body was already in overdrive.
Scott eyed me. “Because if you were around my boys, I’ll tell the judge. Coleman will eat you alive, and Teyonah will lose custody faster than you can flex those muscles.”
Something snapped in me.
In my head, I was already moving. My fist breaking his teeth. My knee caving in his ribs. His stupid fucking papers scattering like white confetti while I strangled the smugness out of his throat.
I wanted to see his blood paint the floorboards.
I wanted to hear the wet gurgle of his last apology.
I wanted to drag his corpse to the basement and carve him open on my table.
A dissection of arrogance.
A lesson in silence.
