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“Saint!” I scream. “Your daughter can see you.”
“Da-Da!”
Saint's head snaps up, and he catches one to the cheek. “Fuck!” Saint spits, and out comes a tooth with quite a bit of blood.
I have my arms around Ciara, trying to calm her as I watch. “Are you happy now, you neanderthal?” I ask, calm as a kitten. I don’t want Ciara any more upset. Though I’m sure, she can feel my heart beating out of my chest as easily as I feel her’s.
“What do you want me to say? I told you! I told you I wasn't good.” He growls. “Finn—drive them to Doc's office. I'll be behind you!”
I look at Finn and nod, getting Ciara back into place. I climb over and into the back with her. The door closes behind me, and I settle against the seat.
Pulling out my phone, I pull up his name. Saint Westmoreland. I click the message icon.
Me: You are rude, crude, and downright disrespectful. If you ever treat your child or me in that manner again, I swear that I will make every day of your life a ruin. You are a neanderthal. But…. You are MY neanderthal, and I love you. You had better be right behind us because I won’t have you with a scar on your handsome face.
