Page 111 of Royal Desire

Dean answers on the second ring. “Where are you? Ruby said you were on your way.”

“I was.” I bring my other hand to my mouth. Blood. The airbag busted my lip open. “Someone ran me off the road. I’m on the side of the highway about a half mile from my house on the way to town.”

“Fuck. You okay? Do you need an ambulance?”

“I’m fine. I have no idea about the other driver. I’m getting out now.”

“I’ll call it in and have the bartender keep an eye on Ruby. I’ll head your way.”

“Thanks. And don’t tell Ruby. She’s in the middle of a show. I’m fine. I don’t want her to worry.”

“I’ll let you deal with the ramifications of that.”

I release my seatbelt and try to open my door. Dammit, it’s jammed. I force it enough to kick it the rest of the way open. The dark night is filled with smoke from my car. Between that, and the other car’s headlights, the only thing I can see is a silhouette stalking my way.

I’m about to yell at the motherfucker who almost killed me, but the moment my feet touch the road, I freeze.

I’d recognize it anywhere. Prison didn’t put a dent in his swagger.

But his face...

Yeah, that changed in prison.

I come to a stop at the hood of my car and watch him approach. He’s irate and fuming more than my car he just fucked up.

I clench one fist and rub my thumb against my fingertips of the other. Just the sight of him lights a murderous rage in my gut. “If you intended to kill me, you failed. But you’re used to failing, right? Come at me, Dad. I’m ready.”

He might have the same mannerisms, but prison aged him. He’s wearing a wrinkled pair of cargos, a sweatshirt, and a pair of slip-on canvas shoes.

My father in slip-on canvas shoes. It makes me want to laugh.

The only time I’ve ever seen him in anything wrinkled was when he was wearing orange for his sentencing. If those shoes don’t scream detention facility issued garments, I don’t know what does.

I wondered if he had help on the outside, and this is my answer. He’s after me rather than sucking his old acquaintances dry. He has nothing to his name.

“You little fucker,” he growls as he advances. He’s an arm’s length away before he stops. “You did it. I know you did.”

Of all days, this is not what I need. “You picked the wrong man to fuck with on the wrong night. I’m not the kid you used to toss around and bruise up just because something didn’t go your way. I don’t know whose ass you kissed in D.C. or whose cock you sucked in prison, but just because you’re out doesn’t mean you can come back here and ruin our lives again.”

He’s different. I see it as he stands there laser focused on me. And the difference is he’s stone cold sober.

His face shines red with anger through the dark night. “I know everything, you little prick. You paid the judge to put me away for the maximum time when the worst I should’ve gotten is probation. You did this to me! And then you took my house and my company. You took everything and don’t deserve any of it!”

I take a step toward him and lower my voice. I put my hands to his chest and give him a hard shove. He stumbles back and falls to his ass. “That’s where you’re wrong. I wouldn’t spend a dollar of my hard-earned money on you, but you’re not the only one with contacts. And while we’re on the topic of taking everything, let’s talk about what you took from me.”

He stares at me with disdain. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

I’m the aggressor now and continue at him. I reach down and grab him by his dingy collar, yank him up, but do not let go. “You touched her. Threatened her. You’re the reason she left. You should’ve chosen to rot away in prison. The things I’ve dreamed of doing to you are nothing compared to when I found out you touched her. I’ve hated you my entire life, but I fucking despise you after I learned what you did to Ruby.”

Dad grips my forearms to hold on and spits in my face as he talks. “Ruby? That fucking girl? You’re still hung up on her? She was holding you back. I did you a favor by sending her away.”

I pull my arm back and channel every pain and hurt he’s given to everyone I love. When my fist connects with his face, his entire jaw shifts and cracks under my power.

He hits the ground, but it’s not just his skin skidding on asphalt that I hear.

Metal.

A gun falls from under the back of his sweatshirt and lands five feet to the side.