“Huh.” I stepped closer to her. “I expected more.”
Her eyes narrowed, the grin slipping from her lips. “Excusefuckingme?” The sweetness was gone, replaced by a snotty tone that made me want to punch her. “Who the fuck are you?”
“I don’t think you know me,” I replied, tilting my head. “But you’ve definitely heard of me.”
Cami stared at me, waving her hands around. “So, who are you?”
“Oh.” I smiled and straightened my shoulders before walking closer. My heart thumped in my ears as I drew my fist back, slamming it clean into her perfect nose, warm blood sprayingover both of us as she staggered back, howling. “I’m Victor’s wife. I thoughtyoushould know.”
“My nose!” Cami screamed, holding it with both hands. “You fuckingbitch!”
I waited for her to get to her feet, but she didn’t, her legs splayed out against the damp gravel, her cries filling the air. I stared down at her, and pulled my leg back without thinking, kicking her square in the pussy. The pussy my husband loved fucking so much.
Now she really screamed, and I knew my work was done.
“I’d say it was a pleasure to meet you,” I tossed over my shoulder. “But it really wasn’t.”
“I’m going to sue you! I’ll call the cops!” Cami screamed, on her knees now, like I was sure she had been for my husband so many times before.
One more kick in the pants maybe? Nah.
I strode back to my car, enjoying the exhilaration that ran through me at delivering some justice.
Now it was time to deliver some more.
14
VICTOR
“Dude, wake up!” Enzo hissed, shrugging me awake.
I tried to lift my head from my soft pillow, but I’d drunk far too much whiskey last night, and it felt like it had weights on it.
“What’s up?” I asked, my mouth dry. I coughed and sat up, my head swimming.
The empty whiskey bottle laid on the floor beside the sofa, and my stomach rolled at the sight of it.
Jeez, I drankwaytoo much last night. A full bottle of whiskey by the looks of it.
Something about your wife only agreeing to talk to you if you signed the divorce papers did that to you.
Then I heard it. The shattering of glass, and Enzo stiffened.
“Whatisthat?” I rose to my feet, feeling more alert having heard the sound of someone smashing something. “Is that near the house?”
Fucking hell, if someone was trying to break into Enzo’s, they had a death wish. I only needed one excuse to knock the living shit out of some punk.
“I think it’s your truck.” Enzo winced.
“What the fuck?” I grunted, shoving my sneakers on, the laces left loose. I almost tripped on the way to the door but somehow righted myself before I unlocked it and yanked it open.
At first, I wasn’t sure what I was seeing. Clouds of smoke poured from the cab of my truck, and there, standing beside it, was Lila.
She was dressed in all black, her hair blowing around her in the wind and making her look like a super villain. The look on her face was chilling, like she was revelling in my disbelief.
I dragged my hands through my hair, unable to believe what I was seeing. She’d set fire to my fuckingtruck.She knew I needed it for work, that I kept valuable tools in it, but she didn’t give a fuck. The smoke billowed as the fire grew, and I almost fell to my knees.
Lila looked me in the eye and smiled,—fuckingsmiled—then walked away like she hadn’t just set fire to my truck.
