TWENTY-THREE | Heated Warning | Mitt
TWENTY-THREE
Heated Warning
Mitt
I hailed down the next taxi in the busy city street, and I got into the back of the cab, which had a filthy stench in it. The mixed smell of vomit, a child’s dirty diaper, and a woman’s strong perfume. I would’ve got out and found a different ride, but I needed to get to my wife before everything inside of me erupted.
I might do something bad—something terrible—along the lines of my father’s alleged criminal activity, but if I did, I wouldn’t get to her and stop her from the most awful decision of her life. To leave me and go back to that motherfucking excuse for a man. I won’t have it. Nothing could stop me from getting to Tinsley, not even this slow-ass cabbie himself.
“What the fuck are you waiting for? Next Christmas?” I snarled through clenched teeth. “Step on it!”
“Hey, man. Easy, okay?” the cab driver said as he raised a hand and glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “I’m going the speed limit because I can’t afford another ticket.”
“Pull over,” I barked.
“What?” he asked, puzzled.
“I said...” I answered and hit the back of his seat with my hand out of frustration. “Pull over!”
“Okay, okay...” the driver said as he made a hard right and swerved over to the curve. “What the hell is wrong—”
I didn’t let him finish his sentence and got out of the taxi while the wheels rolled. I wasn’t waiting. My patience had ended, and I had to take control of the situation. Albert would even understand, but this bald-headed cabbie with cigarette breath wouldn’t get it, and I’d have to teach him a lesson. He’d learn quickly. He honked the horn at me as I came around the hood of the car, and I headed straight for the driver’s seat.
“Out. Now,” I barked out each word and flung the door open.
“No way, man! This is illegal, and you can’t just—” I grabbed him by the collar and heaved him out of his seat.
The driver’s eyes went wide with terror and adrenaline rushed through me. The ice in my veins heated until they flicked with flames, and I was on fire. Ready to throw him straight into the street if he denied me what I wanted. I needed this vehicle, and he better let me get behind the wheel without a problem.
I had a place to be, a disobedient wife to stop, and a rich asshole’s grave to dig.
“I’m driving.” I glared as my nostrils flared, and I opened the back door to throw him in the back seat. “Sit the fuck down, buckle up, and enjoy the damn ride.”
“But you can’t—” I slammed the door in his face.
I grunted with annoyance as I sat down in the front seat and adjusted the mirror. My passenger’s shocked face reflected at me as he ran his mouth some more, and I ignored all his reasoning. This was my ride now, not the taxi driver’s, who was as slow as a snail.
The cabbie gabbed on, and I tuned in mid-sentence. “I don’t know what the hell your problem is, man, but I—”
I interrupted before my eardrums bled. “I’ll pay you triple what I owe for you to shut the fuck up and let me drive this repulsive vehicle.”
Money was the word. In my world, big bucks talk, and the short, balding man zipped his trap tight without another syllable coming out. It wouldn’t have shocked me if he ceased breathing altogether.
I stepped on the gas while the tires burned rubber as they gripped the pavement and flung us out into traffic. A couple of angry honks here and a few cusses there, but we were off, faster than five minutes ago, as I zoomed through a red and broke some laws, but it was all in the name of having what belonged to me.
My wife.
This sinful woman made me want to do unacceptable things, inexcusable acts, and be the true grumpy asshole I was. All for her, but she had somehow pried some good out of me. I didn’t have to buy her an expensive wedding ring to choose from or get her a designer wedding dress. She didn’t need a reception, a wedding cake, or our first dance. I could’ve skipped all of that, but I didn’t, and I tried to tell myself I did it to keep up the act. To fake being the charming man I truly wasn’t until we made our introduction to the press. I tried so fucking hard, but I don’t know what happened to me, and there I was, wanting to end all her fears. Shield her from everything that could bring her pain and protect her from all danger while she continued to be a pain in my ass.
“Get the fuck out of the way!” I hollered as I laid on the horn and blared down the street.
The truck swerved over as I passed, and my Grinchy self flew past, heading toward the parking garage where I slowed down, but I didn’t stop, and the tires screamed as the tail end squealed. The cabbie swore as he clung onto a handle for support, and he gripped the back of my seat. His terrified face was in the rearview mirror, and his fear only made me smile.
“Watch it! Watch—”
I made a quick right before we collided with an oncoming car and grumbled, “Shut up. I’m paying you to be quiet back there.”
“Right, right. I’m sorry.” The cab driver gulped.
I slammed on the brakes, tires squealed, and the man hit the back of my seat with a hard thud. I glanced back and my grin grew even wider. Lights out. Poor fella should’ve put on his damn seat belt. I’d leave him a hefty tip for his time off with an unwanted concussion. I grabbed some cash from my wallet and threw a good wad of one-hundred-dollar bills down onto the front seat. I left the nasty vehicle behind, but I hoped the company gave the driver an upgrade.
I headed into the mall, ready to comb the crowd full of shoppers, prepared to find the object of my unwanted affection and bring her to her knees. I searched for that piece of shit ex-boyfriend and would make him pay for interfering in my marriage. I’d give the guy credit—he had some balls. A nut sack I only hoped Tinsley would kick in until he cradled his broken balls like Mary held baby Jesus, and he’d weep in shame. But I highly doubted she’d do that because she was out to get to me, and we both knew it.
I scowled like Scrooge as I peered left and right, searching for my wife, and I was ready to bring all the Ghosts of Christmas’s past down on Beau Kingston’s ass. My eyes were laser beams, scanning every inch of the mall, but they could be anywhere by now. Lost in each other’s embrace when her arms belonged around me. Trapped in a kiss when her mouth should only lock on mine.
I was her husband and not some cheating prick who didn’t even give her a real shot at anything. He only wanted to bed her and have multiple women as his side pieces. I’d never stoop that low because I could see Tinsley’s true value. My wife was worth every penny, and she sparkled brighter than any star in the sky because she was my angel. A true divine spirit who had grown on me and brightened my dark soul.
Fuck. Tinsley made me sentimental. I had to cut the crap.
Suddenly, my eyes locked on the target I had been obsessing over for the last fifteen minutes. Her strawberry hair shone in the light and looked so soft I wanted to reach out to inspect each strand for damage. I’d grab her locks, and she’d stare up at me in wide-eyed surprise. But I couldn’t do that.
Instead, I wanted to lurk and see how she played this out. No matter how much the beast inside of me needed to stalk right up to her and claim her, I had to contain the savage urge. I had to leave the monster for him . Beau Kingston, the little fuck who thought he could get away with stealing what was rightfully mine.
I watched from a distance behind some goddamn fake tree as Beau handed her a cheap as fuck Styrofoam cup, and I wanted to grab it. To squeeze the white material until it collapsed and liquid spilled onto the floor. Then I’d grab the motherfucker by his jacket and ensure he had a terrible accident with his spine cracking in two, so he’d never walk again.
Wishful thinking, I knew that. A desperately dangerous man could dream and lead another man straight into a nightmare, but it was one Beau had fully brought upon himself. No one messed with Mitt Morgan and lived to screw with me again.
I ground my teeth when I saw Mr. Kingston reach for my wife, and all bets were off. I growled with rage as I took two steps but halted when Tinsley stepped back and rejected him. I stirred, half of me thankful she threw her hands up and gave him shit while the other half was ready to punch her ex’s face in.
Tinsley didn’t waste a beat and threw the offering at Beau while I couldn’t help but grin as the brown liquid dribbled down his stunned face. That’s my good girl. Even though she had tried to be bad, she couldn’t. Mrs. Morgan couldn’t go through with dealing with scum of the earth, and I didn’t blame her one bit. But I had brought her to her poor decision, and I’d ensure she never had to deal with him again.
Beau took four steps after Tinsley until I gripped the back of his jacket, and I forced him to turn around. The jackass was shorter than me as I towered over his puny ass and glared down at him. He peered up at me while his anger turned to fear. Mr. Kingston was scared, and I wanted to terrify him until he had the urge to pee.
“Did you touch my wife?” I grumbled with displeasure.
The asshole wouldn’t answer. Either too afraid to speak or a goddamn idiot. I shook Beau by his collar and brought my face down to his level. My stone-cold eyes bore into his petrified gaze until I heard him cuss.
“Nah... No...” Beau sputtered out.
“Stay the fuck away from Tinsley if you know what’s good for you,” I threatened, my hot breath against his face.
“You... You don’t own her,” Beau spoke, but he had a hard time getting the words out.
“Yes, I do. I own every damn inch of her. Tinsley’s weeping pussy all over my face is proof of that,” I admitted with the eyes of a crazy man and a smirk. “I’ll gladly prove my point all over again while I make you watch.”
I tossed Beau, and he stumbled backward, almost winding up on his ass. The message I delivered hopefully pierced its way through his bullheaded ego. But the fucker turned away from me and had the nerve to glance back.
Mr. Kingston had the audacity to utter one ultimate message. “Fuck you. Tinsley is mine. She belongs with me, and I won’t have some miserable asshole stop me.”
I should go after him. Stalk the dumbass who had tried my patience and wore it thin. Suffocate poor Beau until he finally took the hint and stopped going after my wife. But I had much bigger intentions for him.
Next time, I wouldn’t be nice and would bring in my big guns. I’d set the target and shoot the asshole down. Beau Kingston would wish he had never been born.