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“As much as I appreciate the fact you stepping in and taking care of things your way or the proverbial highway being part of your DNA, being a mother is part of mine. My son almost died. So no one is taking care of shit right now that didn’t go through thirty hours of labor and suffer a broken tailbone birthing him into the world,” I hissed. “Give me the phone, Keltan.”
He gave me the phone.
I didn’t hesitate to press call on the contact aptly named, ‘Piece of Shit.’
As I put the phone to my ear, Lance’s entire body got even more wired than it had been before, and he’d been pretty darn tight faced previously.
Not my problem.
Not right now at least.
I had another problem.
One that answered the phone with far too much frickin’ cheer for someone that had just tried to kill his son.
“You’re done,” I hissed in greeting.
A beat of silence on the phone.
“What?” I spat. “Surprised that I’m calling you on the phone and not charred remains in a morgue somewhere?”
Lance flinched.
“Or that your five-year-old child isn’t lying on a metal slab beside me?” I continued.
Lance flinched again.
I kept going.
“Well, we survived, asshole,” I continued against the silence on the other end of the line.
“I wish I knew enough ugly words to spew at you, to call you, to make it very fucking known what a piece of garbage you are, but I don’t have enough time. I don’t want to waste any more oxygen on you than I already have. I just want to let you know, that before, I wasn’t out to destroy you. I just wanted you to leave me alone. Even though you beat me. Continuously. Even though you broke bones. Put me in the hospital. Made me lie about it. Made me think I deserved the shit beaten out of me. Somehow convinced me that it wasn’t rape when you forced yourself on me.”
Another flinch.
Not just Lance.
Every man in the room.
I noted this but didn’t let it stop me. A freight train wouldn’t stop me. This was a tirade that was seven years coming.
“Even though you did everything to show me you are rotten to the core and deserve every horrible thing that could happen to a human, I didn’t want that for you,” I said. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d be happy to hear about you getting a fucking hangnail, but I didn’t care to be the one that made your life hell. I was too focused on making a good life for Nathan. Your son. The one you kidnapped for whatever warped reason that had nothing to do with love and everything to do with power. Image. I know for a fact that you don’t love that boy because monsters aren’t capable of that. You are a monster. And because you showed me just how deep that runs, I’m going to make it my personal mission to take you down.”
He laughed, cold and bitter down the phone, the first noise he’d made. “You can try, bitch.”
I smiled, even though he couldn’t see it through the phone, I was glad that I did it. Because the smile wasn’t for him. This phone call wasn’t even for him. This was all for me.
“Oh, I’m not going to try,” I said, injecting the smile into the voice that held not an inch of fear. “I’m going to do it. Because though you don’t, I love my son. I love him more than anything in this world. And you may have been able to do whatever you wished to me without consequences—in this life at least—but the second my son’s safety was threatened, I’m done. I’m making sure the very dangerous, talented, badass men standing around me right at this moment do everything in their considerable power to help me take you down.”
My eyes looked at the badass men, landing on one in particular.
“They have real power, unlike the power you think you have,” I said into the phone, eyes on Lance. “Beating up women and trying to kill children isn’t power. It’s the ultimate kind of weakness. And I’ve just figured out that asking people like these muscly, badass types for help isn’t weak. It’s making sure I’m using every weapon at my disposal. Be warned, fuckstick, I’m arming up and I’m not stopping until you’re history.”
I didn’t wait for whatever venom he was about to spit, I hung up.
I focused on Keltan, who had been glaring pretty much throughout the entire phone call but was now grinning.
I handed him back his phone. “Thank you.” My voice was even now. Pleasant.
He took it, shaking his head slightly. “Muscly badass type?” he asked, tone teasing.
I shrugged feeling oddly calm. “I call it like I see it.”
“That you do, babe.”
“Out,” the single word was snarled from Lance’s mouth. With enough violence and danger that I jerked slightly and turned to look at him. He was not looking at me. He was scanning the room, obviously talking to the rest of the men.
