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“I’m not going to live at home after the wedding. I’ve already bought a house just outside of the city. If the wedding does go ahead, then Lexy will live with us so I can have her with me. I’m thinking about adding another property next to the house. I was hoping it would be your home, too.”
“And what did Lexy say to that proposal?”
I shake my head, “I haven’t had a chance to tell her yet, but I will when the time is right.”
He nods silently.
“It’s the only way I can see this working.”
“I know. It’s just…it’s fucking me up inside.”
“It’s killing me too. Just ask my blue balls, man. They speak for themselves,” I laugh, trying to ease some of his tension.
I know he’s as messed up about this as I am, but I need his head straight tonight. For Mica!
“What if Eric does the same to her? Lexy, I mean. What if he tries to marry her off next?”
I look him dead in the eyes.
“I’ll fucking kill him,” I say, meaning every word. I swear on my mother’s grave, if my dad even so much as even thinks about it, I’ll slit his goddamn throat open and watch him bleed.
I’m about to say fuck it and reach for the bag of chips when four men walk out of the bar with women draped over their arms and open the doors of waiting cars that’s just pulled up alongside them.
Mica.
My blood boils seeing his face again. I hope he enjoyed the drinks he had there cause the next thing he’ll be swallowing is his teeth.
“There he is.” I point, eyes focused on Mica getting into a white Audi spider with a half-naked, leggy blond.
“Let’s go,” Caleb instructs, and I fire up the engine to follow them at a safe distance so they don’t spot our tail.
Fifteen minutes later, we hung back and waited as the Audi pulled up to a three-story beach house surrounded by gates. The place is secluded, so this should be a piece of piss.
Pulling out my phone, I searched for a number for a local pizza delivery and ordered four pepperoni pizzas with stuffed crusts and two drinks to be delivered.
Caleb eyes me curiously, furrowing his dark brows.
“What? I’m hungry,” I shrug.
“Why the fuck are you ordering pizza right now?”
“Trust the process, my friend. Trust the process.”
“Trust the process? Are you fucking high right now? We’re not staying in this car all night eating pizzas when he’s right there.”
Putting the car in reverse, I back up far enough that no one can see or hear anything.
“Just wait, meathead,” I retort, exiting the car and waiting.
Sure enough, the lit-up car top sign for pizza comes into view minutes later.
A younger guy pulls his Ford Focus next to our car and manually rolls down the window.
“Pizza for Rossi?” he asks, with a queried look.
I walk up to the car as cool as a cucumber. “That’s us. Thanks, man, we were starving waiting out here,” I tell him as he hands me over the boxes.
“No problem. Are you guys waiting on a tow truck or something?”
