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“As much as I enjoy waking up to a new version of Lucas Santos in my backyard, I’m going to have to ask you to try to be a little more incognito.”
“Are you saying I’m conspicuous?” he asked as he wedged open the tree limb trimmers and inadvertently hacked off one side section of the tree.
They both stared at the butchered result.
“I think you just made my point.”
Before Lucas could respond, Birdie turned toward the commotion coming from the house, taking in a breath as a furious Errol stomped down the marble steps toward them. “What the holy fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Birdie instinctively jumped in front of Lucas as he secured his sunglasses. She held one hand up, the other holding the coffee cup. “He’s new. Just learning.”
To her utter surprise, he grabbed her by the upper arm, causing her to drop the cup and cry out in a combination of pain and outrage. “I don’t give a damn who you fuck, I do care about the maintenance of the house and its surroundings. Now get the fuck out of my way.”
He pushed her to the side and she stumbled, her hip slamming into the sharp edge of a planter.
She buckled and managed to swallow a painful cry, holding on to her side, but then quickly came to her feet. She stood, hunched over, finding her balance. Her concern was centered on Lucas.
Lucas’s face was molten red as he stood in front of Errol with a look of menace while holding the serrated-edged shears to the side as if a potential weapon, his chest out, and his jaw pulsing with anger.
Birdie stood behind Errol, shaking her head repeatedly as if begging him not to lash out. The last thing she needed was for him to go allEdward Scissorhandson Errol or cold-cock him and be thrown in jail while she was left alone to figure things out without him.
She wasn’t going back to Wayward without him either.
Errol was fuming, poking his finger into Lucas’s chest. “You fucking moron, who taught you how to trim trees? You’re fired, get your things and get off of my property. I’m going to have to have a talk with the staff on who they’re hiring. Fucking morons.”
Lucas’s other hand fisted at his side, and Errol returned his intimidating posture with a sick grin. “You wanna hit me?” He turned toward Birdie and then back to a steaming Lucas. “You want to come to my wife’s aid? Play the tough guy? Go ahead. Hit me, and I’ll have you arrested for assault quicker than you can get inside of my wife’s pants.”
Birdie’s hands were clenched at her mouth as if praying he would stand down. Now was not the time for heroics.
With his eyes glued on Birdie’s, he said, “I’m leaving.”
“Thought so. When it comes down to it, men like you are nothing more than weak, spineless fucks.”
Lucas’s jawline turned to granite and pulsed as he grabbed a duffel sitting on a side table, likely where he kept his various disguises, and glanced at her before with a moment’s hesitation.
Standing behind Errol, she mouthed, “I’ll be okay.”
He kept staring at her as if doubting her and then turned and stalked away.
Her hand flew to her mouth. To say she was shocked was a gross understatement. Errol had never been physical with her. Never touched her in anger or otherwise.
Last night’s escapades must have pushed him over the edge.
He turned toward her and grabbed her by the upper arm once again, and she winced at the pain. He forced her past the loungers, dragging her up the steps inside one of the accordion doors, until they were standing in the vast living room.
“You will not make a mockery of me, do you understand? I could care less who you fuck as long as you’re discreet and you show up to my room and play your part when I demand it.”
“I was only asking the man to stop what he was doing. That’s all.”
“Don’t lie to me,” he said, pushing her until she fell into the chair behind her. “You’re a whore. But you’re my whore. I bought you, and I expect you to remember your place.”
She caught Flynn surreptitiously making his way down the staircase, slowing his pace with eyes wide and equally surprised at Errol’s uncharacteristic manhandling of her.
The last thing she wanted or needed was another man coming to her aid and further angering Errol. “I got it. No more philandering.”
“I expect you in my room tonight,” he spit out with unreserved hostility, began to turn away, and then as if deciding otherwise, hunched over her with both arms caging her in with a threatening glare. “And tonight, Mother won’t be joining us.”
* * *
