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He scoffs, "Your husband’s not even in the country. By the time he finds out, I’ll be long gone. He—"
The door crashes open. The next moment, Rick lunges into the room, grabs Dennis by the shoulder, tears him off me, and throws him against the wall with a crash that echoes around the space.
There’s a stunned look on Dennis’ face, then he bares his teeth, straightens and rushes forward. Rick blocks him, then punches his face, then his shoulder, then his stomach. Dennis squeals, then staggers back. Without waiting for him to recover, Rick swings at him again. This time, Dennis sidesteps him. Rick’s fist connects with the wall—which cracks. Bits of plaster rain down from the ceiling.
There’s a commotion outside. I step up to the door, and lean my back against it, shutting it. I might not be the PR manager of the Ice Kings but I’m not going to let anyone get pics of what’s happening in here. The last thing the team or Rick needs is more notoriety.
This ends here, today. It has to. Rick spins around and kicks Dennis’ legs out from under him. He hits the floor and lays there, stunned. Before he can recover, Rick kicks him in the side, once, twice, thrice, then plants his foot on Dennis’ throat. His gaze widens, he brings his hands up, grips Rick’s leg, but Rick must apply pressure, for his entire body shudders.
"You dare touch her, motherfucker? You dare touch my wife? I’m not going to let you live, this time." He leans forward.
Dennis’ features pale. His arms lose their hold, and his entire body jerks.
"Rick, don’t do it," I yell.
He doesn’t answer.
"Rick, stop, please!"
He blinks, then glances up at me. "You know, I can’t let him go now. He came after you, and after I warned him. I have to kill him."
"No, you don’t."
He glares at me.
"But you can punish him, so he never forgets."
He stares at me for another second, then bends, grabs the other man’s arm, and twists. There’s a sickening crack and a gurgling sound emerges from his throat. Rick removes his foot, then grabs his other arm. Dennis’s gaze ping-pongs from his still intact arm to Rick’s face.
"No, no, please," he cries.
Rick lowers his chin. "This is for collateral."
That’s when there’s a banging on the door, then Edward’s voice reaches us, "Rick? Gio? You guys in there?"
75
Rick
"You all right?" I glance sideways at Goldie’s profile.
"What took you so long to get here?" She wraps her arms about herself but refuses to look at me.
I’ll never forgive myself for not reaching there before he could threaten her again. Sinclair offered me his private jet, and I jumped on it so I could get to her before she decided to go out with anyone else. Seeing her talking to another man on that video Edward had shown me had sent a jolt of anger and jealousy—and yes, fear—through me. It all became clear in that moment. I couldn’t lose her, and I was a fool to think that a ring would be enough to ensure she was mine. What was I thinking? I could send her away and expect her to remain in some state of limbo, waiting for me to pull my head out of my arse?
Edward insisted on accompanying me, as did Finn, and I was unable to dissuade them.
Gio opens the door, and they step into the restroom, telling me to leave with Gio. They’d take care of Dennis, as well as any footage from the security cameras which might incriminate me.
Sadly, their arrival also stops me from breaking his other arm. More the pity. I'm not convinced the douche has learned his lesson. I tried and failed, and now I’ll have to do things the old-fashioned way. Why else would one have friends in the Mafia, if not for situations like this, hmm?
I carry Goldie to the car—she protests, of course, but I plead with her, and she’d finally allows it. She hasn’t met my gaze once—not when I place her in the passenger seat and buckle up her seatbelt, and not as I slide into the driver’s seat and ease the car out. She also hasn’t spoken on the journey so far. I glance sideways at her. She’s staring straight ahead, her features pinched.
"I’m sorry Goldie. Sorry I didn’t stay in touch. Sorry I let you go." I lower my voice. "Sorry I told you to go."
She swallows, but still stays silent.
“I’ll do anything to make up for what I put you through. There hasn’t been a day since I asked you to leave when I haven’t berated myself. I’m an arse for how I treated you. I was running scared. I didn’t want to face up to my feelings for you. I was angry at the depth of how much I felt for you. I—"
