Chapter 11 #3
The address Keys tracked Maddie to as they entered Austin was the same one she’d been at when they’d left the hotel earlier that morning.
Unlike the other days, neither Kelly nor Grumpy had the inclination to lounge in bed, and they were on the road earlier than they’d anticipated.
Grumpy was still debating on whether or not to forgive Jackson for delaying them, but as Kelly pointed out, why would the prospect think they’d diverge from their plans which would prevent him from going for his normal morning run?
Her sensible logic did not change the fact that they’d had to wait almost twenty minutes for Jackson to return, get showered and dressed, and then pack up the SUV. That was twenty minutes more that Grumpy could be spending with his daughter.
The GPS had them only a few miles away. Kelly was driving one handed, her other firmly in Grumpy’s grip.
“I don’t think I have ever been this nervous,” he confessed as Kelly slowed at a red light.
“Whatever happens, you tried,” Kelly said gently.
Grumpy didn’t point out that Maddie had been a legal adult for almost four years now. He’d had four years to try and hadn’t. She’d been the one to try first, not him.
The house they pulled into was modest with a small, covered porch and an attached garage.
Two vehicles were already parked in the driveway.
Grumpy knew from Keys that this wasn’t Maddie’s legal address, which was a PO box next to her college.
This home was being rented by Colton Briggs, who also owned the radio station that Maddie had worked at since her mom had passed in February, and Erik Reed, also a college student at the University of Texas.
Grumpy had not considered the fact that his little Mad Pie might be dating. The thought made him want to punch through a brick wall.
Kelly parked on the road so she didn’t block anyone in. Jackson pulled up behind the SUV. Grumpy’s attention was solely on the house, the irrational fear that it and its inhabitants would disappear if he dared to blink or look away.
Jackson got Kelly’s door and then walked her around to Grumpy’s.
Together, they got him untangled from his mountain of pillows.
Though the drive had only been three hours, he was still extremely stiff.
They’d only stopped briefly for gas once, and Grumpy hadn’t wanted to take the time to walk around.
Together, the three of them walked up the drive at Grumpy’s slow pace.
The sea green Chevy Cobalt looked like a toy car in the driveway next to the ridiculously jacked up bright red Ram 1500 TRX.
There was even a pair of silver balls hanging from the hitch.
Someone was clearly overcompensating. The damn thing screamed “look at me, I have a small dick”, while the lack of wear and mud on the tires told Grumpy it had never been off-road.
Grumpy gritted his teeth up the four porch steps. He’d gotten spoiled the past few days with hotel elevators and ramps. It also pissed him off that four steps had that much effect on him.
Finally, he stood at the door. It felt as daunting as a bank vault. Steeling himself, because it wasn’t like he could just stand on the rented home’s front porch all day, Grumpy reached forward and rang the doorbell.
Almost immediately, he heard a male’s voice shouting. He couldn’t make out the words, but his hearing also wasn’t what it used to be.
He had to shift his shoulders as well as his head to catch Jackson’s reaction. The younger man was frowning, either not liking the tone of the shouts or the words.
A feminine voice called back, closer to the door but also not as loud or harsh.
A second later, the front door opened to reveal a beautiful young woman with short black hair.
With shocked, wide eyes that were just as blue as her mother’s had been, Maddie barely had a chance to look at him before a masculine sneer sounded behind her.
“Well, look at that, Madison. You can open doors just as easily as you can open your legs. Bravo. Now who the fuck is—”
Jackson moved before Grumpy could. His muscles tight, he felt like he was charging forward at a snail’s pace. But Jackson charged in like a bull in a china shop.
Maddie yelped, jumping out of Jackson’s path and inadvertently opening the door the rest of the way as Jackson entered the house. Grumpy followed, rage unlike anything he’d ever felt before driving him to push himself beyond his limits.
Jackson had a man, maybe twenty-five or so, up against the wall, his arm pinned so far up his back that the smallest twist would dislocate his shoulder. Still the man with sandy brown hair and a nose just asking to be broken tried to wiggle himself free.
Crying out in pain, he demanded to be let go, threatening to call the cops, and even threw out the clichéd “do you know who I am?” by the time Grumpy made it over to them. He knew Jackson would be armed, but Grumpy made no move for the weapon.
As soon as Grumpy was next to Jackson, the prospect lifted the man off the wall and turned him to face Grumpy.
Was he wearing eyeliner? Grumpy had no idea and didn’t care enough to inspect him closer.
Though he’d lost a lot of muscle the past six months, Grumpy was still a big guy with several inches and pounds on this prick.
He also knew exactly what he looked like. He might be able to ignore the stares easier than Kelly could, but he still knew. Scarred, tattooed, and something off with his left eye, Grumpy did not look like a man one wanted to meet up with in a dark alley.
As much as he wanted to knock this punk’s teeth out, Grumpy was also aware of his limitations. He was in no fighting shape. But this fucker didn’t know that.
He got right in the guy’s face, grabbed his chin in a hard grip, and growled, “What the fuck did you just say to her?”
“Dad, no! Don’t hurt him!”
Grumpy paused. Even though he trusted Jackson to keep a hold of this guy, Grumpy didn’t dare to turn to look at Maddie.
He wanted to—fucking hell, the pull was strong—but he kept his eye on the douchebag instead.
Unfortunately, Maddie, Kelly, and the front door were on his left side, so he had no way of glancing their way right now.
The only thing that lessened the rage inside him was the fact that Mads had just called him “Dad”. There’d been no hesitation, no conflict with the word. She’d claimed him as her father, just as she had when she was only six years old.
It did something to Grumpy, changed him on a fundamental level. Righted the broken pieces of his soul that had been floating aimlessly around him for a decade.
“Why not?” he asked his daughter without looking away from the shithead. “I heard what he said to you. What he meant. Why shouldn’t I hurt him?”
There was a noise like a sob behind him, followed by a hiccup. Grumpy’s eye narrowed on the fucker. It didn’t matter what she said, this prick would bleed for making his daughter cry.
“Because he’s not wrong. He’s just angry, and I—”
“Don’t say that,” Kelly said, presumably to Maddie, at the same time Grumpy ordered Jackson, “Break his arm.”