AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter Twenty-Five
VERA
It’s pointless for Rhys to even think I’m going to sit my ass at home and behave like a good girl. He knows me better than that, and the fact he just left without even leaving so much as a guard here is ridiculous. Did he expect me to just sit tight? Novice.
I make my way to where I’ve overheard Rhys telling his men the meet would be set up, and surprisingly enough, I’ve walked up on a show that’s already started. Our men and Glib’s men are a good bit away, each having a gun trained on the offending side. I stay in the dark, close to where the action is, but my identity hidden. No one has seen me, and I sure as hell don’t plan on them to.
Their voices lower, and I take a few steps forward, still staying out of sight, hidden behind the brushery. Rhys looks up from his direction, and his eyes catch mine. Dammit! Should’ve known the bastard would’ve seen me. Rhys and Gilb met at a small private area outside of the city center, shockingly close to our home. I think Rhys forgets that I know my way in and out of this city like it’s the back of my hand. Of course, I’d show up, and you’d be damn sure I’d stay hidden.
“Let’s make a deal, shall we?” Rhys offers out of the blue. I’m glaring daggers at my husband. We have no deals to offer this monstrosity. “How about you and I settle this man to man. Our men stay out of it and cannot interfere, no weapons. Only our fists.”
Glib cackles, “Romanian, you will fail.” I watch the way Rhys’ face turns to disgust as Glib calls my husband the pet name that I’ve given to him. I guess he only likes it when I call him that. If everything wasn’t so serious, I’d laugh.
There is no verbal agreement of the fight as Glib flies towards Rhys, attempting to use his entire body as a weapon, ultimately failing. I watch Rhys, using his body to his advantage. He moves quick like a jaguar, to the left and the right, missing a punch by ducking out of the way. He’s reminding me of a boxer, constantly moving and offsetting his opponents strategy. If only this was a mere boxing match.
Rhys’ hand flies in Glib’s direction and he pops him straight in the nose. Even from a few feet away I can hear the crunch of bone and watch as Glib wipes his hand across his face, covering his white shirt in crimson red.
The next thing I know, Glib’s fist smacks Rhys in the back of his head. What a dirty move!
Rhys falls to the ground before me, and I know that if I don’t act in this moment, everything we’ve worked so hard to accomplish will fall apart. I simply cannot allow that to happen. I make a rash decision and interject myself in the fight, pregnant and all, coming out from the brushery. Glib doesn’t see me coming, heading from the back I use all my force and jolt my foot behind his knee, causing him to hit the ground faster than my husband did. Both bloodied and bruised, I think I’ve given Rhys the opportunity he needed to take Glib out.
I walk around to the front and look at Glib as my husband regains his footing, and sneer down at his face, watching the agony and shock that goes into it once he’s realized what’s just happened. There’s no way that he’ll survive this. Glib’s last moments are upon him, and in his eyes I see one thing - fear. He’s right to be afraid, for he knows what’s coming.
Rhys seems to be pissed that I’ve stepped in, being pregnant and all, but surely he understands that without me our children would have been fatherless. He can drum an argument up with me later, it’s pointless if he does. I’ll still win.
He cranks his fist back and plummets his hand into Glib’s face over and over again until you can hear the wet sound of his fist hitting blood. I watch closely as the blood spatters over my husband. His rage continues on for a few minutes until I grab the back of his shoulder, causing him to come to an immediate stop. “There is no way he will wake up from that,” I assure him, and he nods in agreement.
I know why Rhys continued the way he did, because Glib was the catalyst of my depression. The drugs. Olena. Lana.
All of it.
Rhys stands up and walks over to one of our men, whispering something and the next thing I know, Rhys has a glock raised and fires three shots in Glib’s head. Looking at me, he snickers, “Best to be sure.”
I shake my head at my ridiculous husband, loving every part of him, and yes I mean the paranoid parts too. “We sure make a hell of a team,” I smile, walking over to be entrapped in his embrace.
“We sure do, but don’t think your ass isn’t going to be paying for your little stunt later.”
“In your dreams, Romanian.”
