Chapter Twenty #2
“Ballpark, Kiyah.”
“I love you, Grant.”
“I’m blocking you.”
Grant was a man of his word because the following message Kiyah attempted to send failed.
“From the four empty glasses, I’d conclude you enjoy yours immensely.”
“Yet, you haven’t had a drink yet and you smell like a brewery.”
Grant smiled softly before leaning across the table. “I want to thank you.”
“For what?”
“For the roses. Kiyah enjoyed them greatly and was touched by my welcome home gift.” My brow slid to the top of my forehead. “She was extremely appreciative of the flowers I’d gotten her… very appreciative.”
My composure began to crack like a fissure opening in the ground after a 7.
2 magnitude earthquake. Heat as hot as the hinges on Hell’s gates overcame me, and I fought the urge to yank off my tie and choke the smug bastard before me.
That would be unwise. I couldn’t fight Grant physically because, as much as I hated to admit it, I had little chance of besting him because of his formal martial arts training and size.
I had to use my wit, money, and resources to fight him, but even that would prove problematic because he wasn’t a fool.
I wanted to be three steps ahead of him, but he was only one step behind.
A throat cleared, and I looked up to see Kiyah staring down at me with her cinnamon-tinted eyes.
“Good evening, Kiyah,” I greeted, standing to my feet. Grant did the same.
“Good evening, Governor Hopeful Branson.”
“You wound me, Kiyah,” I said, pressing a hand to my chest. Her face froze in confusion. “We’re friends, Kiyah. You can call me Todd.” She was about to object when I interrupted her. “Pete misses you, by the way.”
“Awe. Tell Pistol Pete I said hello.”
“Will do.”
“And how is your wife?”
I allowed my shoulders to drop with a heavy sigh. “Not very well, if I’m honest. I’m taking it day by day, but she’s home surrounded by people who love her, and she’s comfortable.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Mourning a loved one is one of the most challenging experiences you may face in life,” Kiyah empathized.
“Thank you for your warm words.”
“Well, I don’t want to disturb your meal any longer. It seems one of our sheep strayed away from the flock,” she said, weaving her arm through Grant’s. “Thank you for returning my phone.”
And the flowers.
“No problem. Have a good evening. Please send my regards to Daisy and Nori.”
“I will,” she confirmed as she corralled Grant away.
I watched as husband and wife returned to their section and sneered when Grant’s hand smoothed down her back to her ass for a quick, discreet squeeze.
They were greeted warmly by their siblings—all except for one, who glared at me through his bifocals.
Initially, I made a great first impression on Kieran.
He was bubbly and excitable, like a Golden Retriever, but something had shifted between the first meeting and now.
His green eyes were filled with doubt, mistrust, apprehension, and finally…
disdain. I’d have to keep my eye on the youngest Baker as well.
The one thing I hated the most was someone fucking up a well-laid plan.
I threw a few bills on the table and left the restaurant.
I waited patiently as the valet attendant retrieved my car, handed him a tip, and sat in the driver’s seat.
I moved to close the door when it was caught.
Grant leaned down and whispered, “Stay the fuck away from my family, or else you and your wife will be two fucking peas in a pod.”
Did he threaten me? Better question: Does he think I’ll let this slide?
“I see what you did there. It’s because my wife is a vegetable.” I chuckled darkly. “You’re cleverer than I imagined.”
“Consider yourself warned,” he quipped before slamming my car door.
* * *
After dismissing the nanny, I climbed the stairs to the second landing and made a pit stop at Pete’s room.
I poked my head in and was grateful that he slept peacefully.
I loved my son. He was the only thing I loved in this world, and I’d scorch the earth and punish whoever wronged him.
He was the only good thing that came out of my godforsaken marriage.
I journeyed to my wife’s bedroom and felt a jolt of excitement as I entered the room that was filled with soft, rhythmic beeping from the heart monitor and the hissing sound of the ventilator. The night nurse rested her eyes in the armchair in the corner.
“Mrs. Costner?”
She jumped awake and deliriously gazed around the room as if trying to figure out where she was.
“Oh, Mr. Branson. You’re back.”
“I am. You can go home now.”
She glanced at me dubiously. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I can handle it from here.”
“Okay. As usual, I charted Mrs. Branson’s feeding and medications. I also changed her about an hour ago.”
“Wonderful. Have a good evening, Mrs. Costner.”
I sat in the armchair, still warmed by Mrs. Costner’s body heat, and stared at my wife for several hours. During that time, I was trying to find a single fuck to give about her debilitated state, but the fuck remained elusive.
“You know, you wouldn’t be in this dreadful predicament if you hadn’t tried to leave with my son. If you think about it, it’s your fault I ran you over. I’m not certain I believe in reincarnation, but I hope you make better choices if there’s a next life.”
I approached her bedside and marveled at how she reminded me of a female version of Frankenstein’s monster with all the scars from the stitches and staples used to piece her face back together.
She used to be a beautiful woman, who any man would be proud to parade around on his arm, but her stupidity cost her her looks and her life.
“You will not be missed, my dear. I apologize. I misspoke. Pete will miss you, but he’ll forget all about you when his new mother arrives,” I whispered before disconnecting the hose that delivered oxygen to her.
I returned to the armchair while the monitor went haywire and unlocked my phone.
I typed in the password to access my secret folder and groaned at the first picture that came up.
I released my dick and stroked myself to the photo of Kiyah’s cum-filled pussy as my wife took her last dying breath in the background.