Page 23 of Tormented
A month ago, I would have said no. But now?
Now, what . . .?
You’re a part of me, as much as I don’t want you to know I realize that. Killing you would be like . . . I don’t know. I can’t say killing family, because isn’t that what I’m gearing up to do?
My devil claps excitedly, anticipating the best . . . or worst, depending on who you are in the situation.
“Hey, Sawyer!” a young prospect hollers from the door to the yard.
“What’s with the noise, kid?” I ask, slowly extracting myself from the comfy cushions.
“You better get your ass outside, man.”
“What the fuck for?” It’s late. I’m tired. And unless my goddamn father is standing out there with a bull’s-eye on his chest, I couldn’t care less.
“Ramona. She’s fucking stumbled in the gate with your kid in her arms, man. She looks pretty shook up.”
Or maybe I could.
And all the hens come home to roost . . . .
The leftover Jack spills out over the bar, the bottle tipping in my haste to set it down. I shove the kid out of the way, jogging out to the dirt yard to find King a couple of yards ahead of me, coming from the garage. Mighty, and that asshole Ramona’s fucking, Ty, crowd around her. She’s silent, in nothing but her damn sleepwear, and my boy is shivering in her arms . . . at close to midnight.
“Everything was fine when I left this morning,” the cocksucker Ty says.
“You were there this morning?” I holler. Here I am giving myself shit for being too hard on her for thinking of dating another guy before we’ve wrapped shit up between us, and he’s already making house with her.
“Daddy!” Mack wriggles to get free of his momma.
“Mack, buddy. Are you okay?” I shoulder the Harvard asshole out of the way and bend down to pull Mack to my side.
He shivers in my hold as Ramona states the fucking obvious.
“He’s too cold.”
Bundling him in my jacket, I pull him close to my legs for warmth as I look her over. She’s got a few cuts and scrapes, but nothing too serious. Whatever happened though, it shook her up pretty fucking bad, and that’s saying something for a woman who’s put up with my shit over the years.
“What happened, sugar?”
A blanket is passed in, and her pussy boyfriend wraps it over her shoulders.
“He was just a . . . message,” she barely manages to whisper.
Ty bundles her up as she succumbs to exhaustion, and carries her inside while I try to figure out who “he” is.
I reach down and place my hand on the back of Mack’s neck, finding comfort in the warmth that builds now he’s wrapped up and protected from the cold night air. King steps beside me and frowns as the door to the clubhouse closes after Ramona.
“I ain’t got a fuckin’ clue what she’s on about, brother, but I’ll find out and let you know.” He glances down at Mack, and rests a hand on his shoulder. “You just take care of this one.”
He heads toward the clubhouse, leaving me with Mack, who now peers up from where his head rests on my hip.
“Mommy was brave, Dad.”
I crouch down and wrap my arms under his, hoisting him up, jacket and all. “I bet she was.” He nestles into my shoulder, watching our path as I walk us toward warmth and security. “Now, son, how about you tell me what happened.”
***
“Step away!” Callum hollers as I shove Dog to the floor and make a beeline for my bike. “Now isn’t the time to go off half-cocked, man.”