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“Get off my fucking bike,” I tell him, my voice wavering with barely harnessed rage.
Big Dick grins like the Cheshire cat. “See, here’s the thing, pretty boy. I’ve decided that if you can ride the mother of my son, then I can ride your bike. Only seems fair, doesn’t it, Cora?”
Strike one, fuckface.
“Don’t even look at her,” I growl.
My anger is pulsing through me like a living thing, but Cora presses a hand against my chest, grounding me just enough to keep me from killing this fucker, and reminding me of the promise I had made to her.
“Look, asshole, I’m on a date, and I’m trying really fucking hard to be a nice guy here, but you have two fucking seconds to get off my ride.”
“And you’ll do what, exactly? I have a right to get to know my only son.” The misogynistic bastard. I have a feeling that if Harrison had been a girl, Big Dick wouldn’t have given two shits about the kid.
“You will never meetmyson,” Cora spits.
“He’s my fucking son too, bitch,” he snarls, sliding off my bike and planting his feet on the pavement. His eyes are rimmed red, filled with ire. “If you think I’ll let this bastard step into my shoes, you’re mistaken.”
He moves around the motorcycle, each step bringing him closer. Putting some distance between us and him, I attempt to move Cora behind me, but she shoves her way back to my side, her chin raised in defiance.
“I wouldn’t take another step if I were you,” I warn, but he ignores me and takes two large steps forward.
Strike two.
“I want my fucking son. He deserves more than just a fat cunt for a mother.”
Strike fucking three.
I charge him, my rage taking over all common sense and reason. He had hurt Cora, defiled her body, then discarded her like fucking trash. Now, because she’d given birth to a boy, raised him despite his origins, and given him a good life, this asshole thinks he can walk in here and stake his claim? He’ll never see Harrison, I guarantee it.
And that’s one promise I intend to keep.
I go in low and slam my shoulder into his gut, sending us both tumbling to the ground. He pushes and shoves, anything to get me away from his flank. He rears forward, fist clenched, and connects with my jaw, forcing my head back from the blow. It hurts like hell and my head swims, but I shove that shit down.
This fucker has to pay for everything he took from Cora and what he wants to take again.
I raise my fist and slam it into his face once, twice, three times.
Big Dick falls back, his head slamming onto the pavement, his arm coming up to block my blows, but I don’t let that stop me. I crawl over him, my weight pressing him into the ground as I pummel my fists into his face and head.
Cora’s yelling behind me, but I can’t make out what she’s saying. Blind rage fuels each blow, one right after another, until his face is nearly unrecognizable.He has to pay. He has to pay.A mantra that repeats itself in my head with each strike.
Hands tug at my waist, a voice crying behind me. It all seems so far away. “Stop, TK. Please, stop.”
Big Dick isn’t fighting back anymore.
“You’re killing him,” the voice sobs.
Good. I want to kill him.His death would end it all and protect her, protect Harrison. It’s the only way to stop him from hurting her or anyone else.
“Don’t do this. You have to stop.” Another hard tug knocks me off balance, and I land beside the bloody mess of a man. He moans, with no real words coming out of his mouth, thanks to the broken jaw I’d given him. Raising my hands, I take in the cuts, gravel, and blood coating them. Then a second pair of hands joins them, smaller ones… Cora’s.
“Baby, please stop,” she whispers, cradling my face in her hands, those beautiful brown eyes pleading, shining with her tears. “Come back to me,” she pleads.
When I lean into her hands, she sighs in relief and presses her lips to my temple, putting her claim on me, or trying to get me back to my senses. Whichever it is, I don’t know, nor do I care. All that matters is that she’s here, and he’s an inch away from death. I only have to finish the job.
“I need to finish this,” I tell her.
“No, baby, you did enough.”
