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“Hey! Cut it the fuck out!”
I watched them tip over my tool chest, and the contents came spilling out. Nails and bolts. Hammers and wrenches of all shapes and sizes. My anger grew out of control. I didn’t even see red. I simply saw black. My anger blacked me out as my fists started swinging. I felt bones beneath my hands. I heard men growling. Grunting. I felt something around my neck before I bit down into the skin just beyond my chin. I stomped on bones that crunched as growls poured forth. And it was all I could do to keep myself from drawing the weapon that sat right there on my hip.
Until I felt a hand at the back of my neck.
The pain that ricocheted through my forehead snapped me out of it. I groaned as my vision slowly came back to the light. And when I saw the wall coming at me again, I held my hands out. I stopped the bashing from happening again as the world tilted around me. Then a pair of hands gripped my shoulders.
Before my father’s face came into view.
“You listen to me and you listen good, son. John would’ve never pulled this kind of shit with me. He knew what loyalty looked like. He knew when to buckle down and work, and when to fuck off in his spare time. He knew what family looked like before--”
“--before you sent him out to get shot,” I hissed.
Dad’s eyes widened and I braced myself for another fight. His goonies were pulling themselves off the floor, blood dripping down their faces. Good. They needed to know what the hell came with my father if they were going to keep riding around in cars with that maniac. However, it shocked me when my father released me.
Especially since he stayed quiet.
I narrowed my eyes and dabbed at my forehead. I had blood on my palm, but I didn't feel dizzy. That was good. No concussion, possibly. I did feel blood trickling down my face, though. It would definitely need stitches.
I kept my eyes locked on my father. He stared down his nose at me, as if he were somehow better than all of us. When really, he was the worst of us all. He kept his mouth shut as he backtracked to his car, refusing to turn his back on me. Smart. Because if I had to, I’d kill the man in a heartbeat.
Maybe.
Possibly.
Once I can get Dani’s name out of his mouth.
“We’ll talk soon, son,” he said.
“Not if I can help it,” I murmured.
He and his bodyguards got into the blacked-out car and left, leaving me with new bruises, a fucking mess to clean up, and an anger that made me quake with every step I took.
33
Dani
I smoothed my hands over the black T-shirt and sighed. I don’t know. It just didn’t look right on me. T-shirts were for looser jeans. The tight shirt with the tight pants didn’t fit me well. I felt too cramped up. Too stifled in all the tightness.
I ripped the T-shirt over my head.
“All right. Time to find something else,” I murmured.
I walked over to the few things I had hanging up on hangers and tried to make a decision. I wanted to make the right decision, because when I woke up this morning, I found a note slid under my door. It had nothing but a phone number on it and the letter ‘M.’ And that started my day off better than any cup of coffee could have.
Max left me a note.
I was lucky that I had gotten up before Hannah this morning for classes. If she had found that note, there would’ve been so many questions I still wasn’t prepared to answer. I ended up chickening out at the coffee shop the other day. I had planned on telling her about Max and everything that had transpired. If anything, just to get her take on things. But I’d gotten too paranoid to tell her. Why?
Because even in my head, it sounded insane.
What in the world was I supposed to do? Tell my roommate that the jerk-off biker guy wasn’t terrible and now, after a few weeks, I suddenly wanted to sleep with him? I mean, even Hannah would’ve thrown a fit at that. I decided not to tell her anything. I decided I didn’t want anyone talking any sort of sense into me. I wanted to ride this rollercoaster as long as it would last. Because it was the most excitement I’d ever felt in my life.
And wherever it led--whatever consequences became of it--I’d take it like a woman.
“There we go,” I said with a smile.
I reached into the back of my closet and pulled out a white blouse. It was the only kind of blouse like this I owned. Yet another secret purchase my mother had stuffed into my things before sending me back to campus. But for this particular occasion, it fit what I wanted to do. I slipped the blouse off the hanger and over my head. The flowing fabric caressed my skin instead of adhering to it, and I felt much more comfortable. The tight, black skinny jeans looked great with the fluttering blouse made of soft, silky materials that moved and swayed every time I did. I slipped the leather belt out from my belt loops, since I really didn’t need it. And after sliding the leather coat Max had purchased for me over my shoulders, I smiled at myself in the mirror.
