My voice rang shrilly through the empty alley, edged with hysterical sobbing. Everyone turned to look, even the police stopped their questioning.
Richard looked at me, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly, those gray-blue eyes darkening. "Watch your words, Natalie. Accusations without evidence are called slander."
"Evidence? What evidence do I need?!" I pointed at Andrew's battered form, screaming with everything I had, chest heaving violently. "You just said you'd make him pay, and now this! Richard, he's just my friend! How could you do this!" My lower abdomen cramped with sharp pains. But I couldn't care about that now. Fury and despair burned through every last bit of rational thought.
Richard stood there, jawline rigid, a vein pulsing faintly in his neck. Then slowly, he took one step forward.
That step brought us close enough to feel each other's breath. He lowered his head, lips brushing my ear, voice low enough for only us to hear. "Listen carefully, Natalie. If I wanted someone to disappear, or to learn a lesson they'd never forget, they wouldn't be sitting in an alley holding an ice pack waiting for an ambulance."
He paused, warm breath against my ear sending bone-deep chills through me.
"They'd actually disappear."
Chapter Twenty-Two
Richard
A complete and utter bastard.
That's what I was in Natalie's mind.
As a husband, I'd failed spectacularly.
I stared at Natalie. Those blue eyes that usually sparkled with mischief now burned with ice-cold fury, boring into me like I was some kind of criminal scum.
In Natalie's mind, my way of solving problems was hiring street thugs to rough people up in back alleys? What the hell did she think I was? A mob boss? Some hothead gang leader who couldn't control his temper?
"So you're saying you'll make Andrew disappear?"
Christ. I was saying I had nothing to do with Andrew getting beaten up today!
I struggled to swallow the absurd mix of rage and wounded pride. "Natalie, you need to calm down. Or have you forgotten you're pregnant?"
"How can I be calm? You had someone beat up Andrew today. Tomorrow it might be Emma. And then what? Will it be me and the baby next?" Natalie's voice rose, her slender frametrembling, her face alarmingly pale. I noticed her other hand pressed unconsciously against her belly. That small gesture twisted something in my chest, anger giving way to sharper anxiety. I wanted to grab her, shove her in the car, and get her away from this filthy mess.
Just then, a uniformed officer finished with another witness and headed our way. He glanced at Natalie's furious expression, then at me. Recognition flickered across his face, and his demeanor shifted to careful deference.
"Mr. Winston," the officer cleared his throat, "we've questioned witnesses and Andrew. This was a personal beef. The guys who jumped him are known troublemakers from the neighborhood. Andrew had a run-in with them last week at the Mustang—refused to take their requests, words were exchanged."
The meaning was crystal clear. This had nothing to do with me. Andrew brought this on himself.
"Hear that?" I turned to Natalie, sarcasm creeping into my voice even though I knew it would only make things worse. "Your friend's own mess. Nothing to do with me."
The anger on Natalie's face froze for a split second.
Sirens wailed closer. Paramedics rushed in with a stretcher and started examining Andrew. Natalie didn't respond. She spun around and dropped to Andrew's side, grabbing his uninjured hand, whispering urgently. The tenderness and concern in her eyes made mine sting.
The bastard even managed a weak smile, telling her, "I'm fine, don't worry."
Fuck fine.
I watched their clasped hands. All the frustration I'd been bottling up—the anxiety, the loss of control, the rage at being wrongly accused—erupted.
"Looks like he's not hurt that bad if he can still comfort you." My voice went cold. I stepped closer, stopping a few feet away. "Natalie, we're leaving. Let the cops and doctors handle this."
Natalie's head snapped up like a threatened animal. "Leave? Andrew got hurt because of me—"
"He got hurt because of his pathetic street charm!" I cut her off, patience gone. "And you need to think about yourself. And the baby."
