Chapter 40 – Remington #3
“Stop apologizing,” I growl, swiping away some makeup from beneath her eye. “Why don’t you go home for the rest of the day?”
Mindy looks horrified at the thought. “God no. Then I would just sit there and stew.” Her nose crinkles. “It’s best to stay busy or else I might cook up a plan that would inevitably get me arrested.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, let’s try to avoid any incarceration. Do you have any idea who Twatface sold your collection to?”
She shakes her head and sniffles again. “No, but he sold it for ten grand. There were a lot of vintage and one-of-a-kind pieces that were apparently worth a lot. He’s generously offered to give me the money he received for it as part of the divorce settlement,” she says with a sneer.
“But all I want is my stuff back. It’s irreplaceable. ”
I nod. “I understand. That was a really shitty and vindictive thing for him to do. All of it. I’m sorry.”
Somehow those words don’t seem to be enough, but what else can I say? Or do? That damn bear inside me rears up and growls at me to do fucking something.
“I need to get back to work,” Mindy says, straightening the jacket of her navy suit.
“Take your time,” I tell her. “Use my bathroom. I’m going to run to my apartment and change since my assistant used my jacket as a tissue.” I say that with a teasing tone that makes her giggle.
“Thank you for letting me get all that out. I think I needed to just vent.”
I stand, pulling her up with me, and then, because I’m a goddamn sadist, I press a kiss to her forehead. The feel of her soft skin beneath my lips makes me want to trail kisses all over her gorgeous body and see if she’s as silky everywhere.
“Anytime,” I say mildly, gesturing toward the bathroom. She goes inside, and I stare at the door for a long moment, a million conflicting thoughts swirling through my head.
This isn’t your problem.
Yeah, but I’m about to make it my problem. Or better yet… Twatface’s problem.
I spilled the entire story to Antonio on the short walk over to my apartment, and he sits in an armchair in my bedroom as I switch out my jacket and shirt.
“What a cunt,” he rumbles.
“Agreed. I feel like I need to do something about this.”
His eyes drop to the tattoo that covers my ribs on one side. He’s the only person who knows the full story behind that. Antonio has become something of a confidant for me over the past seven years. Sure, my brothers will always be there for me, but they’ve had their own shit going on.
Serena, on the other hand, gets annoyed when I talk about Minnie, telling me I need to let it go.
In fact, she sang that goofy song about letting it go from that Disney movie when I told her Minnie is actually Mindy, my new assistant.
I know she’s just annoyed on my behalf because she witnessed my hurt and me shutting down seven years ago.
She doesn’t understand why I didn’t just fire Mindy immediately, and she didn’t talk to me for a week after I finally told her to shut up about it.
We’re all good now, but it’s not a topic we discuss any longer.
So I quickly slide on a clean shirt and button it up, covering the ink on my side. “Any ideas?” I ask Antonio.
“Hmmm, you want misdemeanor or felony level of retribution? ’Cause I can do either.”
“We should probably avoid anything felony related,” I say, tucking in my shirttails.
“You sure? I could rough him up a bit. Maybe burn down his house.”
I snort. This fucking guy…
“Yeah, while that’s tempting, let’s take it down a notch. Perhaps something that’s more of an annoyance rather than something that would have you doing jail time.”
“They can’t arrest me if they don’t know it was me.
I’m Batman, remember?” he asks with an air of amusement that tells me he’s kidding.
I think. “Oh, I know. I could hack into his accounts and change all his passwords. Wi-fi, cell phone, utilities, bank accounts. He wouldn’t be able to access anything or pay his bills. ”
Nodding, I slide on my jacket. “Yeah, do that, as long as you don’t get caught.”
Antonio snorts. “You think I’m a fecking amateur?”
“Pardon me for the slight,” I say sarcastically. “Even though we’ll be torturing her ex, that still won’t get Mindy’s stuff back.” I rack my brain, trying to think of something when I suddenly get an idea. I’m not sure it will pan out, but maybe…
“What’s in that brilliant mind of yours, lad?” my driver asks, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees in anticipation. I can’t hide anything from him.
“Can you get into Roger McCoy’s bank accounts and see if he recently received a payment of ten thousand dollars? That was the amount he said he got for selling Mindy’s collection.”
“Child’s play,” Antonio says, snapping his fingers.
A smile creeps across my lips. “See who it was that paid him.”
Realization dawns on his furry face, his smirk matching my own. “Consider it done.”
I breathe out a sigh of relief. Okay, maybe I do have a bit of a savior complex… but only when it comes to the pretty redhead I can’t stop thinking about.