From there, we headed to the Gold Coast to visitEmily’s mother and that handsy stepfather of hers. It was a stop I had been looking forward to, and kind of dreading.
I’d promised my fiancé I’d be on my best behaviour, but I knew myself well enough to know how thin that promise really was. If he stared too long or let his hand linger where it shouldn’t, there was no way I was going to be able to ignore it.
I hadn’t even met the man by that stage, and I already wanted to hurt him.
He was hovering at the top of the list of things I needed to set right, where Emily was concerned.
I liked Emily’s mother the moment I met her. She was kind, welcoming, and adored Lil’ Peach. The fucker she was married to, on the other hand …
I stood back as Emily hugged her mother, but when her stepfather, Jonathon, moved in for his turn, I stepped in front of my fiancé, gently manoeuvering her behind me, and extended my hand to him instead.
The last thing I wanted to do was to touch this grub, but the alternative wasn’t an option. Rather me than her, and by some grace of God, I managed not to crush his hand, but I did squeeze hard enough to make him wince.
Over the course of lunch, though, the rage simmering beneath the surface continued to boil to a point where I was struggling to contain it.
I saw firsthand what a creeper he was. The way he could barely keep his eyes off my future bride, and the seemingly innocent touches whenever she was in reach.
Her mother was completely oblivious to it all, but I saw the way Emily grimaced or flinched whenever his filthy hands came into contact with her skin.
It took every ounce of strength I possessed not to lunge over the table and cave his skull in.
When I could take no more, I stood and looked down at my watch.“We’d better make tracks,”I said, locking eyeswith Emily, and hoping she could see how much I was fighting the darkness that was threatening to break free.
Thankfully, she did.
Her mother rushed into the kitchen to pack some leftovers for us, and Emily followed. This gave me the perfect opportunity to make my feelings clear.
I rounded the table, and when I stopped in front of the man I was seriously trying not to kill, the prick stood and tentatively extended his hand to me again. It was a dumb move because this time I couldn’t restrain myself.
I took hold and compressed his hand so hard, I’m confident I heard a bone crack. He let out a groan of pain as perspiration dotted his forehead. It gave me immense pleasure as he tried and failed to pry his grubby hand from my grip.
I held on a moment longer as I leaned in close enough so he could hear me,“Touch my fiancé again, and next time I’ll rip your arm clean off, hai capito (Do you understand)?”
His face turned ghostly white, and when he nodded once, I let go.
When it was time to leave, Emily’s mum gave us all a hug and shed a few tears when she said goodbye to her daughter.
The fucktard she’s married to was smart enough to heed my warning. He stood back, cradling his hand against his chest, and wished us safe travels as we walked out the door; that was it.
His move, or lack thereof, was enough for Emily to give me a strange look, but nothing else was said.
Two hours later, her phone chimed, and she gasped as she read the message she had just received.
“Oh no,”she whispered.
“What?”I asked.
“It’s a message from my mum. She’s currently sitting in the emergency department at the hospital with my stepfather.Apparently, he tripped after we left and broke his hand. They’re waiting for the doctor to plaster it.”When a mischievous grin curved my lip, she reached over and slapped my leg.“That was mean,”she said, but I could hear her own smile behind her words.
“That’s not mean, mia tortina,”I replied.“It’s called karma.”
I glance down at my watch as I round the front of the van to open the passenger side door to help Emily down.
We’re a bit early, but it’ll give us half an hour to look around before the surprise I have for my future wife arrives.
Emily unbuckles her seatbelt when I reach her, and I lean into the cab, grasp her hips, and gently lift her out, placing her feet on the ground.
“You feeling okay? Still seedy?” I hate seeing her unwell.
