Reese sniffed as she followed me into the lobby. "I'm going to ignore your masculine comments because I'm awesome like that," Then she bumped her hip into mine. "So, where're you taking her? You know her favorite is Italian, right?"
I smiled, because I did know. "I was thinking of Luigi's down on the Plaza."
Reese clapped and sent me an approving grin. "Perfect. She'll love that." She chattered all the way up the steps to the third floor, telling me how she wanted to do Eva's hair and how she'd downloaded the perfect song onto her iPhone to dance to with Julian.
"I can't wait until Skylar's old enough for me to play with her hair. I am going to buy her so many bows and barrettes."
I paused to unlock my front door, only to frown when I found it already unlocked. "Huh. That's strange." I pushed it open. The first thing I heard was both Fighter and Skylar crying down the hall in our room.
A chill raced down my spine. I hadn't come home to a crying baby since the day Tristy had taken off and abandoned Julian. Jesus. Eva wouldn't have left and deserted my babies.
Would she?
I started for the hallway when I heard her scream.
"Pic-" The shriek was cut short before something clanged to the floor in the kitchen and the sounds of struggling followed.
"Eva." I bolted in that direction and skidded to the opening.
The sight before me was what nightmares were made of. Some dead bastard-because I was going to kill him-wearing a fucking three-piece suit was struggling with her and fighting for possession of a chopping knife as he pinned her against the refrigerator. Tears streaked down her face, where one side was bruised and swelling from her forehead down to her cheek. The neckline of her shirt was torn and claw marks had been raked across her neck.
Launching myself forward, I grabbed the old fucker's wrist and wrenched it, satisfied when I heard a snap and he cried out. As the blade dropped from his broken hand, I hauled him off Eva and spun him away, shoving him into the cabinets and making the back of his head crack against wood.
While he was still dazed from that blow, I landed another into his face and then one into his gut, only to realize he'd undone his belt and the top button of his pants.
"Oh, fucker. You are dead."
After another punch, his blood flew, but hands and arms wrapped around me and yanked me back. Mason and Eva's voices buzzed in my ears. I resisted, but when a sobbing Eva wormed her way between me and the guy I was trying to kill, plastering herself to my front, it was impossible to fight around her without hurting her.
Mason backed me against the far wall, but I could still see the bastard as he shook his head, then cupped his face and wiped blood from his nose. I recognized him. The rich douche from the shop who'd come in with a flat tire on his Bentley. For some reason, that pissed me off even more. Made me think he'd targeted Eva specifically.
So I tried to surge forward to get back at him, but Eva was desperate to keep me away.
"Please," she begged. "No, Pick, no. You can't. You have no idea what he's capable of. He could destroy you. Please." She buried her face in my neck, her tears wetting my skin.
Shock made me suck in a breath. I couldn't believe she actually knew this creep. "Who the fuck is he?"
"Her father," Reese answered me from the kitchen doorway where she stood pale-faced and frozen, gaping at her uncle from a pile of spilled shoe boxes littering the floor around her feet and the garment bag she clutched to her chest.
Chapter 24
PICK
At the sound of his niece's voice, the Bentley prick spun toward Reese.
Her gaze dipped to his open belt. "Uncle Shaw?" With a sob, she dropped the garment bag and covered her mouth with both hands as she backed up a step.
I looked down at Eva just as she glanced up at me. The loss in her eyes explained everything, all the sorrow, shame, and regret. Her expression told me exactly who'd been brutalizing her for years.
"Oh, fuck," I whispered.
Her eyes widened. "Pick." She placed her sweet fingers on my cheeks, keeping my focus on her and no one else. "Please, don't."
I vibrated from my rage. I wanted to rip apart the monster who'd terrorized my Tinker Bell.
But fuck. Her own father? I fisted my hands and squeezed my eyes closed, trying to obey her pleas. It seemed vital to her that I not pound him into nothing, but God, I wanted to so bad. I even had to jiggle my knee to alleviate some of the aggression thrumming through me.
"Reese, you saw nothing," the dick was saying, his voice making me twitch, craving to charge him. "I could destroy you, got that? If you say anything to anyone, I'll destroy you and your little prostitute boyfriend over there."
Reese gasped and went sheet-white while Mason flinched against me. Eva kept staring at me, begging with her gaze, asking me to stay calm. I pressed my forehead to hers and attempted to focus on nothing but her.
But her fucker of a father had to point at me next. "And you. You'll pay for putting your dirty, greased-stained, orphaned hands on me."
I probably should've been shocked he knew so much about me. But I was more eager to beat him to a pulp. "Bring it," I said. I would love to-
"No," Eva moaned. She clutched me tighter and pressed her cheek to my chest.
A growl worked up my throat. Damn it. Why didn't she want me to hurt him for her?
Somehow barely respecting her wishes, I kept staring at her father without losing it. Not sure how I accomplished that, but I impressed myself with my own ability to tether in my emotions, even though I could still hear my kids down the hall, wailing for us.
"Get the fuck out of my house," I snarled.
Her father narrowed his eyes. Fucker didn't like being told what to do, did he? Too bad. This was my domain right here.
Finally, his lips twitched as if amused. When his gaze shifted to Eva, I wanted to pluck his eyeballs from his head for even daring to look at her.
"I'll go," he murmured. "For now." Then he turned on his heel.
Reese stood in his path. Realizing he needed by her to get out, she leapt out of his way with a gasp and darted toward us, tripping over spilled shoes in her haste. Mason let go of me to snatch her up and pull her against him. Free of Lowe's restraining hands, I wrapped both my arms around Eva, kissing her hair and breathing in her scent.
As soon as we heard the front door close at his departure, she wiggled out of my arms, and took off down the hall toward our bedroom. When the babies quieted a few seconds later, I finally couldn't contain my aggression a second longer.
I reared back my arm and punched the refrigerator. Twice. The burst of pain that came as I split my knuckles open actually felt good and relieving.
"Oh my God," Reese moaned, pulling away from Mason to pace in a tight circle. She buried her fingers in her hair as she tried to grasp what had just happened. "That was . . . oh my God. Her own father . . . Uncle Shaw was . . . he was trying to . . . "
When she looked to Mason and me as if seeking help, I looked away and gritted my teeth.
"You knew," she realized, staring at me hard. Her mouth fell open. "You . . . but . . . " She shook her head. "When did he . . . how long . . . why did she never tell me?"
"Sweet Pea," Mason started, sympathy ruling his tone.
But Reese held up her hand, warding him off as she stared at me. "Pick?"
"What?" I snapped back, scowling at her. "What do you want me to say?"
"I want you to say I'm wrong," she cried. "Tell me I did not see my uncle just try to rape my cousin. Oh my God. My cousin. My best friend. My-" Tears filled her eyes. "Holy shit, that wasn't the first time either, was it? Holy . . . oh . . . God. I think I'm going to be sick." She cradled her stomach as her tears fell harder. "How could you know that and not say anything? He came to our apartment, looking for her. He came to me and I . . . I told him where she was. I never would've done that if I'd . . . if . . . Mason." Turning to her man, she hurried to him.
He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her hair and murmuring, "It's okay, baby. It's okay."
Pushing back enough to gape at him, she squawked, "Okay? How is this okay? He . . . he . . . to Eva."
Mason didn't have an answer, so he just pulled her against him tighter and forced her to bury her face against his chest.
As I watched her knuckles go white from how tightly she clutched his shirt, I tried to reassure her. "I didn't know," I said. "Not who, anyway. Not until just now."
She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "But you knew someone had . . . ?" When she couldn't finish the question, I nodded. Confusion clouded her expression. "Why would she tell you and not me?"
"She didn't tell me. I figured it out."