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So far.
Except when it comes to Prue.
For her, I’m a protective, raging lunatic. If someone tries to hurt her, they can be damn sure there’ll be retribution. A painful, damaging one.
My fist crashes against his ribs, again and again.
Crack, crack, crack, crack.
The man’s slimmer than I am and about a foot shorter. He groans under repeated blows and tries to scoot toward his car, reaching for the handle.
I punch him again, effectively eviscerating his escape attempt.
“I’m not fucking around, asshole,” I growl, putting my face right up to his. “There’s this quiet alley ten miles down the road. A dark space where people can getlost.”
He trembles. I grin.
“Who sent you.” It’s not a question anymore. It’s a command.
“Don’t hurt me, please.” He hugs his body, protecting himself. “I’m Elias, a friend of her father’s. He asked me to look after her, check if she was doing okay. I’m a private detective. Here, see for yourself.”
Elias moves a trembling hand to his pocket, reaches in blindly, and offers me a crumpled business card.
So, this is who her dad sent after her. What are friends for if not to find your daughter so you can terrorize and blackmail the shit out of her?
It doesn’t explain how his friend could afford to drop everything and come over here since Prue isn’t giving either of them a dime. Maybe Elias has some money saved up. Maybe they planned to rob her.
Whatever it is, it stops today.
“Take it. See I’m legit.” Elias waves the card at me.
I don’t glance at it. I don’t care for his credentials.
“The last thing her father wants is to look after her.” I punch Elias’s stomach, coaxing another pained groan out of him. The card falls from his hold to the ground. “Wants to look after her money more like it. To threaten her until she gives it to him.”
“I—I—”
“Shut the fuck up and listen.” My hand on his mouth muffles his sorry-ass excuses. “Pass along the message to herdadthat she belongs to me. Dr. Theodore Wentworth. Memorize the name. Make sure he remembers it, too.”
“Dr. Theodore Wentworth,” he repeats too easily. Like he’s heard my name before. I file it under the things-I-have-to-worry-about-later pile.
“The next time I so much assniffeither of you following her, I won’t go to the police like I threatened Zeke I would.”
At that, his gaze transforms into a terrorized one.
“Yeah, you heard me right,” I seethe, the flames of hell seeping into my words. “Neither of you will be found ever again. Nod if you understand.”
He does, and I delight at how he cringes as the back of his head chafes on the asphalt.
“Get the fuck out of here.” I snatch the business card off the floor, waving it in his face. “I have your full name and number, asshole. Let this be an incentive to never come back here again. Finding you will be so. Fucking. Easy.”
“Swear, I won’t step foot in California ever again.”
“No, you won’t.” I swivel my head, and seeing there’s no one here, I kick Elias in the stomach, reveling in the agonized sound this jerk’s throat produces. “Remember, not you or her loser of a father.”
“We won’t.”
I don’t say anything else. In the warm Los Angeles evening, I watch Elias scramble to his feet and rush to climb into his car. He doesn’t even put on a seatbelt, just peels out of his parking space and dashes forward. Hopefully, to never be seen again.
