I step toward him, but he doesn’t move.
“And,” I add, “if I catch any of your boys dealing anywhere around Knight’s Ridge, I’ll personally deliver them back in no fewer than one hundred pieces. You got that?”
“We don’t—”
My eyes narrow and he swallows his words.
“You’re right. You don’t. Excuse me.”
I don’t wait for him to move, I just barrel straight through him with my shoulder.
His loyal servants helpfully jump out of my way, allowing me to walk out of their little kiddy playhouse with my woman, vowing to both of us that I’ll never give her a reason to step foot in this shithole ever again. The only person who stops me is a girl who looks completely fucking wasted, but she’s clearly still a little with it because she holds out a bag I recognise as we pass her.
“Look after her,” she slurs, her eyes dropping to Emmie for a beat before I turn my back on her.
I find my car exactly where I left it with the door thrown wide open, which is a fucking stupid thing to do in the middle of Lovell.
Thankfully, there aren’t many Maseratis on this deadbeat council estate, so almost everyone should know who it belongs to and stay the hell away.
Ignoring the driver’s side, I march around the hood and pull the passenger door open, gently lowering Emmie into the seat.
“It’s okay, Hellcat. I’ve got you,” I say, cupping her cheek and wiping away some of her smudged makeup.
Damn, I wished I was the one to make her look like that.
The knowledge that it was another guy who’s caused her lips to be so red and swollen makes me want to storm back into that place and burn it to the ground with every motherfucker inside.
A soft moan rumbles in her chest as I cup her cheek, and she leans into my touch as if she recognises me even while she’s out cold.
“We’re going to get that cleaned up, okay? Then I’m taking you home.”
Honestly, I want to say that my intentions are pure and that I’ll take her to her dad’s to sleep this all off, but seeing her with another guy has only fuelled my need to keep her to myself again, and I’m not sure I’m going to be able to ignore it and be selfless enough to give her what she’d want.
Dropping a kiss to her creased brow, I tug the seat belt around her and close the door, more than ready to head out of this fucking estate.
The second the engine rumbles to life, I floor the accelerator and leave everything behind in my dust.
I only make it to the end of the road when my phone rings through the speakers.
Without missing a beat, I connect the call.
“I’ve got her,” I say before he has a chance to speak.
“Bring her fucking home, Cirillo,” Dawson growls down the line, the threat in his voice making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
I can only imagine how he felt having to ring me tonight when he couldn’t get a hold of his daughter.
But fuck, am I glad he did. I was even more relieved to get my second call of the night from someone I’d rather not speak to who announced her exact location.
“Yeah, I need to make a stop first.”
“What for? You promised you’d bring her straight here.”
“Trust me, D. I’m looking after her.”
“Cirillo,” he warns.
“She needs…” I swallow hard, glancing over at her with blood staining her shirt. Most of it isn’t hers, but it still rips me to shreds that I hurt her.