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A fierce surge of pride in Abby wells inside me, and despite the trouble she set into motion, I admire the strength of her convictions and the warmth of her heart.
The door opens, and I turn to see a woman standing there. Mid-thirties, perhaps, with bleached hair, long fake nails, and heavy makeup.
Exactly the type I’d picture on Hellman’s arm. “Mrs. Hellman?” I ask.
“Oh, no… I’m Levi’s secretary.” She pats her hair, cocks her hip out. “His wife is in Philadelphia visiting family.”
Shocker that his secretary is here at his home.
“Is Levi around?”
“Sure he is,” she says with a wave of her hand. “Let me get him.”
She doesn’t invite me in, but I’m glad. I want the openness of the porch.
I hear boot steps on hardwood floors and then Levi’s at the open door. He doesn’t recognize me at first as he stops at the threshold. “Who are you?”
And no sooner is that last word out of his mouth than his eyes go round as he remembers that day down at the clinic. He starts to say something, but my hand shoots out.
I grab him by the front of his shirt and jerk him out the door. I use his surprise and momentum to sling him right off the porch.
When he’d first appeared, I checked to see if he was wearing the holster, and he was not. I’m assuming because he feels safe in his own house, but I was prepared to alleviate him of the weapon had it been on his hip.
Levi’s feet hit the grass and his knees buckle, but I give the man some credit. He’s agile as he does nothing more than roll, springing to his feet.
Doesn’t matter… I jump off right behind him, and as he turns to face me, I’ve got him by the shirt again, this time with both hands. I push him backward, using my considerable size and weight advantage to walk him across the lawn where he slams into the side of my car.
It knocks the wind out of him, and he sags.
“Levi!” the blond secretary screams from the porch. “Should I call the police?”
“You do,” I warn her, “and he’s going to be investigated for attempted murder and arson.”
It’s a total bluff, but she doesn’t know that, and Levi certainly can’t take the risk. He yells at her, “Get in the fucking house, Laverne. And don’t call the cops.”
“Smart man,” I murmur.
As soon as the woman is gone and the door is closed, I lean in toward Levi, prepared to give him my directive. The pansy ass tries to bring his knee up to smash my nuts, but I easily turn sideways so it glances off my hip. I draw my right hand to my left shoulder and launch a backhanded fist straight to his nose. It’s not a hard punch, but it doesn’t take much to crush the cartilage there.
Levi bellows in pain, cupping his face as he bends over. Blood pours from his nostrils. “You broke my fucking nose.”
“Not like you didn’t deserve it,” I mutter, my hands once again grabbing fistfuls of his shirt to haul him up. “Now listen here, you sick fuck. If you ever go near Abby Blackburn or Dr. Schoen’s property again, I will end you. If you think I’m bluffing, think again. I’m a paid mercenary and former Special Forces, and I can make you disappear so no one will ever find you again.”
A slight exaggeration, but he doesn’t know that.
“Tell that psycho bitch to stay off my property—”
I pop him again, this time hard on his cheekbone with my fist.
Hellman cries out in pain. “Please stop hitting me.”
“Stop being a douchebag. Now… am I going to have any more problems with you?”
His head shakes in the negative, but hatred blazes from his eyes. I don’t care. This visit isn’t about resolution, merely a warning to keep him away from Abby until I can figure some other way to bring him down.
I sling Hellman away from my car hard enough that he stumbles and falls to the ground. He doesn’t stand but pushes up with one hand and wipes blood from his face with the other. I smile at him as I get into my SUV and turn around on his nice lawn.
As I’m heading down the driveway, I see the blond rush out the door and attempt to help him up. He bats her hands away and pushes to standing before stomping into his house.
I have no clue if that’s enough to scare him into submission until Bebe works her magic, but it’s the best I’ve got, short of killing the guy, and I don’t operate that way.
Feeling better about the situation, I stop at the grocery store and pick up chicken breasts, asparagus, and fresh pineapple to grill. I nab a bottle of decent-looking wine and return to Abby’s. I’ll order her into the shower, insist she put on fresh pajamas, and I’ll cook us up a feast.
