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“You’re wasting my time. Dee isn’t my problem. We’re through here.”
“We’re not through by a long shot.” He lifts the tumbler to his mouth again and I fist my hands to stop myself from smashing it into his face.
“Did you think I’d buy that load of shit? Christ, boy, you are dumb. After O’Malley gave me the goods, I drove by her house a few times. Thought I’d find your car in the driveway. Thought I’d make my move when I did. But I got better. You were mowing her fucking lawn, raking her leaves. No man does that for revenge pussy.
“Catching you play house, I decided to bide my time. Let you believe there was a real future between you two. That only makes this sweeter ’cause I’ll never let you have her. I’ll destroy her before that ever happens.
“You see, I got the 4-1-1 on Deeana Rae Chase. A father who didn’t stick around, a mother that sent her away to foster homes before she finally offed herself. Imagine what O’Malley could do with all that? I’m sure you have, that’s why you’ve been keeping her hidden.
“But I got O’Malley just where I want him. He won’t be printing anything more about you, unless I say so. And I got lots I could say. Likeabout her screwed up life, her pregnancy, the way she left you and her own foster family without a fucking care. Now she’s back with dollar signs in her eyes. I could play up the gold-digging angle. The public would love that. Of course, you’d be out there denying it, defending her, which will only amp up the story’s value and make you look more like a lovesick fool. Hell, I could make five mil off this alone. It would be a best seller. Better than any drivel you could ever write.”
My restraint breaks. I’m on him before I can think. Bringing both of us and the stool crashing to the kitchen floor, my fist connects with his face. He grunts. I hit him again, like a hammer to his jaw; feel my knuckles explode. He strikes back, missing. I lay another one into his gut and scramble to my feet. He jumps up swinging, but quicker, I duck and retaliate with an uppercut to the chin that has his head snapping back. He recovers and rushes me, his fists ramming into my ribs. The hits steal my breaths, but he’s no match for my strength, fury, or adrenaline.
I shove him hard and land a roundoff kick to his gut that has him doubling over. Rage pumps off me and my mind stays in that dark place where I don’t care about the consequences. With the advantage, I smash him into the wall, bringing my knee up and into his balls with sharp, rapid force. He wheezes in pain and my hands go around his throat, my grip tight. His face reddens, his eyes water and bulge in their sockets.
“You go near Dee…you go to O’Malley, you do anything to hurt her, and I will finish you.” Slowly, reluctantly, I release my grip and pull away from him.
His windpipe clearing, he slumps against the wall, hacking out coughs. His jaw is marked with the promise of a large bruise, and blood seeps out of a gash across his cheek. He withdraws the gun and aims at my chest.
It’s not the first time. But I’m not afraid.
“Walk away, Malcolm, before one of us ends up dead.” I give him my back and go to the door, bearing the ache in my ribs. I yank it open and turn to him.
He eyes me like a wolf readying for another attack. A combination of pride and fury must have him burning to pull the trigger. But killing me in my own condo, when I’m too far away for it to be self-defense, would be a messy business even for Sheriff Peters to explain.
Common sense rules. He finally lowers the gun and holsters it again. Then ambling over to the counter, he takes a long swallow of whiskey,grabs his jacket and hat—leaving the bottle behind—and walks toward the door. He stops in front of me, his eyes like black lances, his sneer vicious. He slides on his cap, lowering the brim to cover his injured face.
“That little stunt just cost you another five. I want ten mil in my account by next Friday. And stay away from the girl or I will ruin her. And if either of us ends up dead, it will be fucking worth it.”
ChapterSixteen
Dee
When Bernard pulls up tomy house, my friends see me off with good luck hugs. On a mission, I go inside and straight to the bedroom. I retrieve the extra key card to Mick’s condo.
While a surprise visit isn’t exactly fair, that’s too bad. If he’d just been open and honest with me in the first place, I wouldn’t be about to head back to the city in the middle of the night like some clichéd version of a ditched girlfriend who can’t take a hint.
The talk with Lex and Jord had sobered me right up. Still, to be on the safe side, I call an Uber. Minutes later I see on my phone that the blue Honda has arrived.
In a rush, I pull open the door and hit a wall. That’s what running into Stiles feels like. I stumble and he catches my arm. What the hell? I hadn’t counted on him still being here after Bernard dropped me home for the evening.
“There’s a man parked outside. He says he’s your Uber driver.”
I prickle at his intrusion. “You spoke to him?”
“That’s my job.”
“Well, your job sucks.”
“Sometimes it does.”
If he’s making a joke, it doesn’t show in his one-note expression.
“As you can see there’s no press around, I don’t need a bodyguard.”
“You’ll have to take that up with Mr. Peters.”
“Oh, I intend to.”
