Chapter 46
Dax
“We can set their entire fucking compound on fire and be done with them.” I slam the door shut behind me. This day gets worse because Stone and Steel are here. “Where’s King?”
“Doing what needs to be done,” Steel says.
“Are we sure he’s the right person to do it. He’s hard to miss.” The man is almost seven feet tall, muscular, and mean as a snake that hasn’t fed in weeks.
“They would notice us before him. He knows what he’s doing.
” Steel is right. King is one of the few people in this world whom I trust, unlike my lying wife, who will learn a lesson today.
She can starve for all I care, or she can drink one of those expensive mineral waters that she puts on the grocery list.
Insufferable, lying ass manipulator, and I just fell for it. One look into her big brown eyes, or one kiss from those pouty lips, and I was ready to give her everything.
My burner phone buzzes, and it’s a one-word text saying ‘done.’ I nod at the men, and they exhale in relief.
Steel picks up his own phone and ventures into the corner to talk.
“Preacher, what’s the surveillance on this guy?” I’m so out of it, I can’t even think of the mark’s name.
“We have his routine. The man does the same thing every day. Steel’s calling his cousin, who will arrange everything.”
“And are you certain he’s going to go in front of the right judge?” The judge is the key to this entire thing. We need him to keep Kolzski in jail without bail. After a few days of getting his ass kicked, he’ll happily throw anyone under the bus to avoid a real prison.
“It’s handled,” Stone’s gruff voice says. “We are thorough.”
I nod, sit, and lean back in my chair. That’s a word that easily describes the Titans.
They are indeed thorough. They aren’t violent unless they need to be, stay under the radar, and are true to their word.
At least dealing with me. Unlike the Brennans, I don’t worry about the Titans double-crossing me.
After a few minutes, I text the housekeeper with a list of groceries to bring to the house ASAP. If she wants to eat, she can cook it herself. I’m not going to send her a prepared meal.
I also don’t know how to handle her. Letting her go is a non-starter, but the anger doesn’t work for me either.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Stone’s words take me out of my thoughts, and I wish I could punch the smirk off his face. “Oh. Women's problems. Didn’t you just get married?”
“What do you know?” I snap. “Aren’t you alone? Oh, wait. No one is ever alone in your little cult of a family.”
“Hey, now. His wife died.” Preacher shakes his head and frowns in shame.
“Yeah, she died to get away from his ass.”
“Well, the cancer had something to do with that,” Stone says. I should feel bad, but I don’t have it in me. “What’s your excuse?”
“I married a psycho,” I mutter.
“Yeah, she’s the psycho.” Stone pulls out his phone and dismisses me. After a minute, he puts the phone down and snaps his fingers at Finch, who runs to him. “You want to talk about it?”
I scoff. “Hell, no. Not with you.”
When I return to the house, I hear the most annoying voice I’ve ever heard. My wife and her cousin are sitting in the kitchen, eating takeout. Cori ignores me, but Selene sticks up her middle finger without looking up.
I check the fridge, and the food I ordered is there, untouched.
“I want you out of my fucking house.” I slam the fridge door shut and glare at Selene.
“It’s my fucking house, and she’s welcome here as long as I say she is.”
“You don’t own shit.”
“We’ll see.” Cori cocks her head to the side like the arrogant asshole that she is.
Unwilling to argue with either one of them any further, I whistle at Finch and point at Cori. Finch stands in front of her and growls. Cori jumps on the kitchen counter, and I take Selene, throw her over my shoulder, and grab her purse on my way out of the house.
She cusses and hits my back, but I don’t put her down until we get outside. I look around, and don’t see her car.
“I don’t have a car, you jerk.” She tries to hit me, but I take both wrists in one hand. “I sold it, and then you took Cori off your accounts.”
“Walk.” I leave her on the sidewalk and return to the house. Cori is still on the kitchen island, shoving food down her throat. Of course, there’s none for me, so I snatch the container from her, stick my hand in it, and shove a handful of macaroni in my mouth.
She doesn’t argue or cuss me out like I thought she would, but she jumps off the island. When Finch growls and gets closer, she holds out her hand and says, “Sit.” Finch whines, but she listens.
Cori walks out of the kitchen and out of my sight without another word to me, so I finish the food and find her upstairs in bed watching television.
I do what I never allow Finch to do. I whistle and tilt my head to the bed.
She jumps on. Cori backs away, but doesn’t go running like I thought she would.
“Nice trick, by the way.” Her voice is as sexy as the first time I heard it, and my body becomes alive.
“It took me almost all day to find a lawyer you haven’t already contacted.
Every divorce lawyer within a hundred miles can’t represent me due to a conflict of interest.” I neither deny nor confirm that I spent all of yesterday calling lawyers first. “But I found one. And thanks for sending the housekeeper. I used her phone to call Selene, who helped me find a lawyer to get away from your ass. She’ll be in touch.
I suggest you move out of this house because I’m not giving it up. ”
I sit on the edge of the bed. It takes all of my willpower not to caress her legs or rub her feet.
“When I was a kid, my mother’s favorite movie was something called The War of the Roses.
Ever heard of it, Bella?” She doesn’t answer, but her eyes narrow.
“Probably not. It’s an eighties movie, so before your time.
Anyway, they were a couple going through a bitter divorce, fighting tooth and nail for guess what?
” She remains quiet, but she arches one perfect eyebrow.
“The house. Do you want to know how the movie ends? They both die in the house while fighting for it. Bring it on.”
“You’re cute.” Her words are dismissive, not flirty like I want them to be.
“Either that or you’re an egomaniac. Probably the latter because you’re not looking all too good to me right now.
But I admire how you think you’re capable of taking my life.
” She scoffs, grabs the remote, and turns up the television's volume.
“I guess it won’t be as easy as taking your grandmother’s sewing machine and kicking it until it breaks.” I shrug. “Oh, well.”
“When I become a divorcee or a rich widow, I can buy all the sewing machines I want. I'm not pressed.” I can tell from the inflection of her voice and the twitching of her cheek that she is pressed. She’s more than pressed, and I take comfort in that.
I know how much that sewing machine means to her, and I don’t feel an ounce of regret for taking it.
“By the way, I made plans to take your mother to the spa and to lunch tomorrow. I will need my car and money.”
I know it kills her to have to say that.
“Are you asking me?” I decide to twist the knife. “Does your husband need to give you money and a car to go out? And permission. Don’t forget permission.”
“Did you hear a question? Give me money and make sure my car runs. Period, not question mark, dumb ass. How the hell did you get into college when you lack basic comprehension skills?”
“At least I went,” I throw out. Her cheek twitches again, and I fight myself not to take the words back. It’s not her fault she didn’t go, and I know how hurt she is.
“You play the victim so well. You should have picked drama instead of biology. But then, that wouldn’t have gone anywhere either, you criminal.”
“Fuck outta here.” I wave my hand at her in dismissal.
“And it will be a cold day in hell before I would ask you or any man for anything.” She turns off the television, hops out of bed, and walks out of the room, slamming the door behind her.