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“I spent it. I have bills to pay.”
I grabbed her arms and tore the sleeves of her dress off.
“Hey!” she shouted and tried to push my hands away.
I ignored her protests as I scanned her arms for track marks. There were none. She wasn’t on drugs. That didn’t explain her spending.
How much damned money could this woman spend?
I could feed a hundred orphanages with the money I gave her each month, all because she continued to hold Everett over my head, and I’d rather send her money than risk her not feeding our child.
“Are you gonna give me the money or what, Bastian?” The Southern accent thickened with her impatience.
“You flew all the way here to ask me for money. It must be important.”
Wariness lined her eyes in an instant. “No. I just need it now.”
“I’ll give it to you.”
“Okay—”
“After I see Everett.”
I watched the decision war in her eyes.
She knew I couldn’t go to Alabama. She also knew if she took him to any other territory, including mine, I’d rip Everett away from her and find some hole to bury her in.
That was how deep my fury for her ran, and I didn’t bother to hide it.
I didn’t know why it shocked me when she took a step back and said, “Never mind. I don’t need the money. I’ll figure something out.”
My eyes narrowed on her. “Figuring something out better not entail starving or neglecting my son.”
“You’re less of a father to him than your own father is to you,” she seethed. She’d always been jealous of my relationship with him.
“You harm one hair on his head, and Social Services will be on your doorstep so quickly.”
“They’ll take him away. You’ll never get him back.”
“There is no shortage of people I can buy off, Elsa. Surely you, of all people, know this.”
The real threat wasn’t Social Services.
It was the Andretti family.
As soon as they discovered Everett existed, his life was at risk, and maybe I wouldn’t get to him in time to save him. I couldn’t risk that.
But I didn’t tell Elsa that as she huffed out a breath and stormed away with her ripped pink sleeves flapping in the wind like her loose pussy lips.
And I swore, if I had to die trying, I’d get Everett back from that lunatic.
Chapter
Twenty-Four
The grand essential to happiness in this life are something to do, something to love, and something to hope for.
JOSEPH ADDISON
