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“I’m sorry, sir. No, he’s not.”
Pain wells up in me and I try to push it down. He was just an employee. There’s no need to get maudlin over the loss.
But it’s like finding my little angel and claiming her has awoken the beast that hid inside me. And this beast is very territorial over its subordinates.
The loss of my employee has me holding back painful tears and I wish to fuck I’d never been woken to these damn emotions.
But if I hadn’t, could I have fallen in love with Bonnie? I don’t know. I don’t think you can push your feelings down too much or they just disappear and that’s what I did for the longest time. Until her.
“Find his family and make sure that they’re given a large settlement and we’ll pay for his funeral. Also, set up a monthly stipend for his widow and children.”
“Sir?” He sounds shocked.
“He’s a damn fine employee and his family deserves every damn bit of it. Get it going.”
He sighs. “Yes, sir.”
“I’ll be back shortly.” The car pulls up and my nerves are itching at me, driving me into insane territory.
I get in and nod at my driver. “Get me to Fisher Street. Number 2o.”
He nods and we pull out slowly.
“I need you to get me there fast.”
He hits the gas pedal and we’re barreling into the unknown territory. I want to know who took my angel, who killed my man. But right now my mind won’t move beyond where Bonnie is.
It feels like forever but it’s less than ten minutes and we’re pulling onto the road and as soon as we do, I see a bright pink flash in a spot by the side of the road.
“That’s her. Hurry up!” But he’s too slow and I jump out, needing to touch her.
But when I reach her, my heart seizes in my throat. She’s so pale. Too pale.
“Bonnie? Angel?” I whisper, too tired and shocked to do more than whisper her name.
She barely moves but her wondrous eyes open, clouded with pain. “Is he gone?”
“Who?” I snarl, because whoever it is is a dead man. I will kill him with my bare hands.
She groans and holds her belly and then her head and panic streaks inside me.
“Baby, what’s wrong. Did they hurt you?”
“Hit my head with gun,” she squints and I see the lump on her temple, growling under my breath and bending to pick her up, carrying her limp body to the car.
“Hospital. Now.” That’s all it takes and we’re screaming out of the little pathetic lot. I’m holding her tight and she’s mumbling.
“What about Lorenzo? Is he alright?”
She’s so fragile. I can’t tell her.
“You need to worry about you. I’ll take care of everything else.”
But she frowns like she knows and a tear slips down her ivory cheek. Her glasses are gone and there’s a spot of blood where it looks like they pinched into her cheek. Probably when he hit her.
“Who hit you?”
“Dad.”
