Spicy Disaster (Don’t Date Him #6)

Prologue I

Common sense is like deodorant. The people who need it most never use it.

—T-shirt

Odin

There were times in your life when you had to admit to yourself that you were in an impossible situation.

On one hand, you could do what’s right and pay the ultimate price for it.

On the other hand, you could bury your head in the sand and act like nothing ever happened, while also casting your morals aside and being unable to live with yourself.

In this particular situation, I’d come to the uncomfortable truth.

I couldn’t let this go.

Not and live with myself afterward.

And sure as fuck there was no way I could live in the same state as the governor that had literally had a hit taken out on his wife and child, and everyone knew it, but couldn’t prove it.

The little girl had been so sick when she’d first come to me.

My mind had whirled with possibilities, and those possibilities had solidified into one hard truth.

The governor of Mississippi was poisoning his child.

After weeks of trial and error, the mother had discovered the truth.

Discovered two truths.

That not only was her little girl being poisoned, but so was she.

We’d gotten the little girl on the mend, and only when she was doing better did I notice that the mother was also experiencing symptoms of poisoning, just at a much slower rate.

And who was doing the poisoning? Man Wise, the so-called “governor” and “family man” who “loved his wife and child to pieces.”

His public face had been a facade. He acted like he was so in love, while simultaneously poisoning their daily tea that he’d known the wife and daughter took seriously.

They’d been playing tea party, for Christ’s sake.

A game. Every morning, they’d sit down and enjoy a cup of steaming tea while eating cookies they’d baked the day before. Innocent and pure.

And Man Wise had fucking ruined it.

The people who wanted to know the truth about Man Wise knew it. They protested in the streets. They filled out petitions. They even wrote the president—hell, I’d done all of those things, too.

But then there were the people that saw money when they saw Man Wise. They saw the cash cow that he was, that did the things that they wanted him to do, and didn’t question his morals. Didn’t see any problems with him killing his wife and child for who-the-fuck-knew why.

And let’s be really clear here.

Everyone knew he did it. No one was denying that.

It was just some people cared and protested, while others didn’t care, as long as Man Wise kept their coffers filled and the incentives rolling in.

Corrupt was too tame of a word for the likes of Man Wise.

As he walked out of the courtroom with a huge “gotcha” smile on his face and his people surrounding him slapping his back and carrying on as if he hadn’t just gotten away with murder—literally—I’d made my decision.

I slipped the safety off the gun in my suit jacket.

I waited until the smug motherfucker was inches away from me, that stupid fucking smile on his face that screamed “too bad so sad” and lifted the gun.

Before anyone could do anything—not his bodyguards, not his stupid smug asshole personal assistant, not the cops at his back, and not the new wife at his side that had likely been a part of the killing of his wife and child—I shot him square in the face.

His head exploded like a watermelon dropped unceremoniously to the ground.

The crowd screamed.

Cameras clicked.

And my world changed.

For the fucking better.