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Chapter 5
Downstairs looked pretty much like I expected it would, given what had been going on while I was upstairs facing off with Aloysius White.
Fluffy in full revenge/retaliation/protection mode is awe-inspiring, and the wreckage he’d left behind, along with what Tac had no doubt served up, was a sight to behold.
Black-suited grunts lay scattered around the dining room and foyer. None of them moved. Amongst the carnage were broken plates, glasses, and one chair that—regardless of the skill of the craftsman—would never be repairable.
More than one fallen grunt had a fork stuck in a part of their body. Fluffy’s handiwork, I suspected. Tac had had a gun at the start, after all. Mind you, Tac was also crazy enough to forgo the immediacy of a gun for the fun of hand-to-hand combat. I’d seen the smile on his face when he’d pulled the gutting knife from his jacket. I had no problem imagining him jump into the melee brandishing only a fork, his gun tucked at the small of his back.
Tannah raised an eyebrow at us as I took in the mess. “Is Fluffy helping your Australian friend deal with the bastard upstairs?”
I gave her a reassuring smile. “Yeah.”
She nodded, pride beaming from her. “Good.”
If I’d had any doubts she was the perfect woman for Fluffy, they were extinguished there and then.
“Mom?” Ronnie called, worry whispering through the word. “Dad?”
Tannah let out a shaky sigh. “They’re still under the table. Your father won’t let your mom come out.”
I slid Ronnie a sideways glance, caught her rolling her eyes, and bit back a chuckle. There was no fucking chance her father would approve of our relationship after what had just happened, or bless our marriage, but he was still her dad. Me laughing at him, or her reaction to him wasn’t right.
“Dad, get your ass out here now.” Hell, she sounded like a strict schoolteacher. Was it wrong it turned me on? Probably. At the very least, it was bad timing.
“Is it… Ow, Janice, stop punching… Ow.” William’s muffled voice wafted out from under the long table. Most of the glasses on it were knocked over. Red wine stained the white linen…or was it blood? I narrowed my eyes. Could be one or the other. Or both.
“Will you stop…” William continued, indignation and shock in the spluttered words, and then Janice appeared, straightening from under the table, smoothing the front of her dress down.
She looked at me, expression unreadable, and then smiled at her daughter. “Baby.”
Ronnie hurried around to her and enveloped her in a hug as William extracted himself from his hiding spot and cast a worried gaze around the place.
That worry vanished, however, when he saw me.
Scowl twisting his face, he pointed a finger at me and opened his mouth.
“Don’t you even think about it, Bill,” Janice snapped, glaring at him. She hugged Ronnie closer to her, closed her eyes, and smoothed her hand over Ronnie’s hair—one of the most maternal things I’d ever seen.
Trust me, my mom had never smoothed my hair. Pulled it? Yeah. Smoothed? Hell no.
“I’m so glad you’re safe, Mom,” Ronnie murmured, her own eyes closing as she held Janice tightly. “Sorry things got a little weird.”
A soft laugh fell from Janice. “Weird. That’s one way to describe it.” She pulled back enough to look at Ronnie’s face, but not enough to let her go. I totally got that. After what had just happened, I never wanted to let Ronnie go, either. “We are safe now, right? It’s over?”
William snorted. Wisely, that was the only sound he made. He’d been thrust into a world he wasn’t cut out for. It seemed, however, his daughter and his wife were. At least, Janice could roll with it better than he could, and for all my worry about screwing her up, Ronnie seemed to handle the insanity of it all like she was made for it.
Janice looked over her shoulder at me, lifting her eyebrow.
“I think Trinity and all the sh—crap that came with it is done, Mrs. Underwood,” I said.
I hoped.
Fuck, did I hope.
White was the head of the fucking Trinity snake. Once the head was cut off…
A heavy thud vibrated through the floor above us, followed by the very distinct sound of White groaning.
