He tries his best to get out of the chokehold I have him in. His arms are swinging everywhere, missing me every damn time. I squeeze his neck tighter as I pummel his face. His grunts from my thrashing egg me on. He can take his bruised body back to the pussy who’s to afraid to stand in front of me himself.
I release my hold on him, his body slumping to the ground. He’s choking on his own blood as he tries to speak. I grab my gun and place it at his temple.
“Take this message back to Ryan, asshole. Tell him next time he sends someone after me, he should make damn sure it’s either him or someone who can fight back, not some amateur who won’t be able to wipe his own ass for the next month.” Then I take hold of his arm just above his wrist, bending it back until I hear the bones snapping. His screaming follows. But I need more. My anger is surging, Grace’s face flashing in my head. Letting go of his hand, I lift my boot the minute his limp-less arm falls. With all my strength, I crush his fingers, wincing myself at the agony he must be feeling. He’s all but passed out. Fucking joke. I flip him over enough to check for identification. When I find nothing in his pockets, I leave the fucker there. Tucking my gun back in place, I make my way into the building. My hand is stinging. A few scrapes are showing. I decide right there to not give Deidre anything to worry about. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. I vowed I would do my best not to hurt her again, and when I give my word, I stick to it. I hate lying, but hey, if she sees them, I’ll lie to keep her free from anymore worry. Tell her I had to hit the punching bag a few times. Technically, I did. “There’s a body lying in the parking garage of Deidre’s apartment. Can you take care of it?” I cut my words short before I step into the elevator. “You got it, man,” Jeff clips back. There isn’t a single person in this organization I’m a part of who doesn’t have a job. Some are dirtier than others. Jeff is the one who disposes of bodies. This man isn’t dead, but he will be. I warned the fucker.
CHAPTER TWELVE
DEIDRE
The mind does some crappy things to experience how slow time can drag. Today has been one of the longest days of my life. I swear it has.
After Aidan left late this morning, I tossed that Detroit Tigers shirt right in the trash bag with the baby’s shitty clothes before I changed Diesel into an ensemble of Yankee attire. My child will never be caught in those clothes again. Then I called my mom in hopes of having lunch somewhere close by to be able to talk and ease her mind over Aidan and his direct approach toward welcoming his role as a dad. Even though she left here with his promise falling from those sensual magic lips of his, I know she’s worried.
A few minutes after my mom gets here, there’s a knock at my door. And bam, like a bitch sweating to death in a massive heat wave, I’m hit with another blast from my past. Fucking Dilan.
Aidan sent Dilan to watch me. Now I have a damn bodyguard again. I argued until I was damn near spitting glass at the man, determined more than ever to leave and have a nice lunch with my mom and enjoy walking through the park, pushing a stroller. Enjoy just a normal day of being a mom.
I’m no fool. I know this has everything to do with his mother and little Junior, or in my words of choice, Bitch and her little Bitch-ette.
So, with my mom and a very pissed off Dilan—and an even angrier Deidre—we’ve been cooped up in my apartment all damn day waiting for Mr. Baby Daddy to return.
“He’s clean, sweetheart.” Mom strolls into the kitchen with her sing-song voice.
“Look at you, little man.” I drop the wooden spoon I’m using to mix up my famous batch of brownies. It’s late, almost nine P.M., and still no word from Aidan. I need more than these four walls to occupy my time. Mom offered to bathe Diesel, so here I am, standing in my kitchen.
“Love those little pjs by the way.” She tosses an assuring wink my way. “You know me too well,” I tease, then inhale the sweet scent of my son, his innocent odor instantly calming me. Aidan may not like them, but I do. “Yankees all the way.” I lift one of his little hands, then tickle his tummy. He laughs. The sound is welcoming.
“I don’t want to upset you any more than you have been all day, but I thought you should know. I received a text from your dad a few minutes ago. Apparently, I have a bodyguard now, too,” she exclaims dryly.
“Great. When will these nightmares ever end?” I sigh.
“Fucking never,” Dilan barks out from the living room.
“Dilan. If my grandson’s first word is the “F” word, I’m coming after you first.” I screw my face up by wrinkling my nose and wiggling it into the man’s face who’s captured my heart. “Grandma will do it, too.” He jabbers on and grabs a handful of my hair.