“Then you better have a fucking court order,” Evan snarled. He was venomous, stalking Ryder, forcing him to retreat toward his vehicle, nearly tripping over his feet. I was grateful for the reprieve. These weren’t the kinds of memories I wanted my son to have.
38
Evan
“I don’t think I can hold back,” I muttered to Hunter’s stoic grunt, brushing past him. It was like he knew there was no way to keep this in check, at least not this time. I stalked out of the house and into the driveway, tailing the asshole. I didn’t care who saw me; all I could think about was beating this scum for even thinking he could come into our house and make demands about a son he couldn’t have been bothered with before.
“Whoa, witnesses.” Hunter beelined for me with Whittaker right on his heels, both attempting to pull me back. It was just like our high school footballs days when we had each other’s back.
“You’re a cop, Evan, don’t do it.” Whit grabbed my shoulder, but I brushed him off. My aggression didn’t have a release valve with Ryder West. Where did this clown think he got off talking to Remington like that? As if she owed him something. Nope. Not on my watch.
“What are you going do, Officer Rooney?” That shit bag could taunt me all he wanted. He wasn’t leaving here without a few bruises.
Ryder turned around, staring at me, and the momentum pushed me forward. The guys behind me shouted and one yelled to call Damien for bail money.
Oh, hell no.
“Fuck face.” I grunted and hit Ryder square in the mouth. My hand hurt like hell and shooting a gun at the range would hurt for a few days, but watching him spurt blood and clutch his pretty boy face was satisfaction despite any pending consequences. Oh well, I tried to behave for Remi’s sake, but this punk ass had it coming to him.
“Well, shit there goes the neighborhood,” my second least favorite person said, and I turned to look, earning me a punch from Ryder that dazed me. Whit came to stand between us, but I wasn’t done, not by a long shot.
Damien stood in my driveway, holding a salad and smirking while Kristen stood speechless. Everyone hovered in case they had to pull me off him again, but Ryder rolled away concerned with his busted nose than doing anything retaliatory.
“Babe, hold the salad.” Damien pushed the salad at Kristen and joined us.
“Demon. Oh no, no, no,” Kr
isten mumbled stuck with a red Tupperware container and a shocked expression. “My mother is going to freak about this,” she muttered. Yeah, I could just imagine her mother, Judge Calloway, presiding over our disorderly persons cases two weeks from now.
Damien slowly rolled up his sleeves, assessing the situation as he came into the fray. “Been waiting a long time for this, asshole.” he said, winding up. My eyes barely blinked before I could move, duck, or process what was happening. Damien Hart hauled off with a sucker punch, packing a decade’s worth of unresolved resentments. I watched the movie in slow motion, turning as the punch glanced off me and rocked Ryder West flat on his ass from behind me. That asshole was going to hit me from behind and Damien took him out.
Despite our mutual disdain for each other, Damien did me a solid, and it was hard to hold the smile back. Expletives were yelled, followed by a chorus of, what the fucks and dude.
We all watched as Damien rolled his shoulders and leaned down to Ryder, speaking low so the girls couldn’t hear him. “If I ever catch you back here giving Miss Remi a hard time, or so much as a headache, I will punch you so hard the football gods will bench your ass for life. You hear me, bro?” The wild look in Damien’s eyes translated past the fuel of testosterone, and Ryder mutely shook his head.
The crazy seemed to resonate and Ryder stood up slowly, watching all of us as Damien spoke again. “Besides, what kind of idiot assaults a police officer in front of—one, two, three, four, gosh multiple fucking witnesses? Huh?” He crossed his arms over his chest and followed Ryder until he got into his car and peeled out down the street.
“I guess that takes care of that.” Whit huffed, locking an arm around me in a bro-hug.
Hunter looked between the two of us before addressing our new bromance. “You two good now?”
Damien shook out his hand, finally letting out a whimper. “Fucker has a hard face. Can I get some ice and a beer? Please?”
I winced, checking out my own hand. It was a mess and Remi would be upset. “Hey, thanks.” I inclined my head toward Damien.
“Don’t read too much into it. I like Remi, not you,” Damien replied with a tilt of his lips in a crooked smile like he just couldn’t help himself one last time. “Besides, she has my blood coursing through her veins. I feel responsible.” He smirked.
“I hate this guy.” I shook my head, trying to shake the whole experience off.
“Nah, we’ll keep him around.” Hunter chuffed, playfully roughing his cousin up.
“Yeah, okay, man.” I brushed him off with a chuckle.
“Little shit.” Hunter grumbled, but he too couldn’t stop the smile and like that, all our grievances seemed to be swept under the rug. I’d always be grateful to Damien for that night in the hospital and today.
A cry from the front steps stopped our musings as I braced for the girls to pepper us with a hundred questions.
“Evan what did you do to your hand?” Remi rushed me, reaching for my bloodied knuckles and testing the movement of my fingers. She cooed over my every wince and the warmth of loving her filled me.