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“Eliza, I say this with all due respect, but shut your fucking mouth when it comes to Kierra. The irony of you calling anyone a whore is phenomenal.”
The words had barely left my lips when Eliza began attacking me—throwing punches and slaps whenever she could land them. I guarded myself the best I could until Anthony intervened. She shrieked, fell to the ground, and held her knee where Anthony whacked her with his cane.
“Who’s the gimp now?” he taunted. He averted his attention to me and hissed. “Damn, Jon…she got you good.”
I nodded and used my thumb to swipe the blood from my busted lip. “Yeah, she fucking did.”
“I got it all on video.”
Thank God for small favors.
I bent down, checked my reflection in the mirror, and sighed. If Eliza had a shred of common sense, she’d pack a bag and skip town.
I’m not paying for the next tooth that Kierra chips. Eliza’s on her own.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Kierra
“Where the heck is this man?” I asked myself, dialing his number once again. It was past 9:00 in the evening, and I hadn’t heard from him besides a few texts here and there. He said he’d be home for dinner, and then nothing.
I hope he’s okay and not blowing me off.
I rolled my eyes when the call went to voicemail. Before I could hang up, an incoming call from Simone came through.
“Hello?”
“Hey, girl. I’m calling to let you know that your man is here, and he’s afraid to come home.”
“What?” I asked, brows knitting together in confusion. “Whose man?”
Simone laughed. “Stop playing.Yourman,” she insisted.
“What does he look like?”
“Tall, blonde, green eyes, a little on the lean side—that man.”
“It’s not ringing a—”
“Eliza beat this man up,” Simone interjected. The remote dropped out of my hand onto the floor, clattering loudly.
“What?” I whispered.
“They were checking the house out when Eliza came home, and all hell broke loose. Anthony recorded the whole thing, andJonathan plans on using it in court to strengthen his case against her.”
“Did he call the police?”
“He did.”
“Was that lunatic arrested?”
“No, she took off before law enforcement could get there. But I wanted to let you know that Jonathan was here.”
“Why is he afraid to come home?”
“She got him good. He has scratches all over his face, neck, and chest, and she busted his lip pretty bad. He doesn’t want you to get upset.”
“What did he plan on doing? Not come home for a week?” I asked skeptically.
