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"Tell you what," he murmurs. "You tell me why Stanley has a handprint across his face, and I might just let you."
I shrink, feeling about two inches tall. "Never mind. Maybe you should fight your own battles, Daddy."
"Davina."
"He ran into my palm?"
Micah chuckles. "You're a terrible fucking liar, but a cute one. Why'd you hit him?"
"Promise me that you won't kill him? Because I don't think we can both go to jail at the same time. It'll be scandalous."
"You're stalling, and you aren't going to jail. If he even fucking thinks about pressing charges against you, I'll bury the son of a bitch."
"Under the jail?" I ask hopefully.
"Do I need to add another rule?" he asks, leaning back to hit me with a stern look.
"He said you treat me like a filthy whore," I squeak. "So I hit him. And then he g-grabbed my wrist."
Micah steps away from the wall, cradling me carefully. "Hop down, baby girl," he says, his voice deceptively calm.
"What? Why?" I cling to him. "I think I'd rather stay right here."
"Hop down, Davina."
"Micah, please don't kill him," I plead, suddenly terrified that's exactly what he's going to do.
"Oh, I'm not going to kill him," he growls, pure murder flashing in his eyes as he sets me on my feet. "I'm going to bury the motherfucker alive."
Chapter Ten
Micah
Davina and I don't go to my office. We go to hers. I know if I go to mine, I'll fucking murder her boss for what he did today. And since I just promised her that I wouldn't do that, I'm not tempting fate.
But Stanley Maynard is finished. He'll never work in this town again. In fact, he'll be lucky if he ever works in this state again by the time I'm finished with him.
My grip tightens on the steering wheel as we pull into the parking lot at her office. The car purrs obediently as I park it, the engine going silent with a flick of my wrist.
"Stay close to Corey," I tell Davina as we exit, my hand ghosting protectively over the small of her back. The sight of her in the dress she wore for me this morning sends a surge of possessiveness running through me. She's mine. No one else's. I'll be damned if I let anyone else have her.
She nods silently, her eyes wide and trusting. My sweet, innocent Davina who never asked for any of this shit but is game enough to play anyway. Because she loves me. Because she's fucking perfect.
Corey's already waiting by her desk, thanks to the text she sent warning him that we were on the way. His eyes flit between the two of us, lips pressed into a thin line.
He doesn't ask questions, but I know he'll be hounding her for answers about what happened as soon as I'm out of here. What she tells him is up to her. He's her best friend. She trusts him, which means I trust him, too.
"Keep an eye on her," I growl. "If Maynard shows up here, don't let him anywhere near her." The prick messed with something that isn't his to touch—my little girl, my world—and now he's going to pay.
I wait for Corey's nod of understanding before I stride down the hallway, my footfalls heavy against the plush carpeting. My blood is boiling hot in my veins, a molten fury threatening to spill over.
Jude Despora's office door is standing open, but I knock twice out of respect before entering.
He looks up from his desk, surprise fading to understanding real quick when he sees the look on my face. "What happened?"
"Maynard," I spit, the name sour on my tongue.
Jude nods slowly, as if he knows what's coming.
