I want to beat this man to within an inch of his life. Not only is he not willing to protect her, he’s willing to let her take the hit for what he’s done.
“I’m gonna beat the living shit out of you,” I tell him, advancing toward him. “You a fuckin’ pussy trying to put this on her? What kind of a fucking asshole lets someone else take the blame?” My eyes go blurry with rage as adrenaline pumps through my veins. I’ve got him by the shirt, lifting him straight off the floor when he begins to cry like the pussy he is and my phone rings again. Romeo.
Shit.
I drop him again, hard, raise my hand, and give him a solid backhand across his face. He screams like a little girl, and I curse under my breath while I answer the phone. I didn’t hit him hard enough.
“Yeah.”
“Get out. Now. They’re coming after you. Mario and Gloria will be behind you as backup. Go, go, go!”
I don’t ask him who or what, don’t ask a single damn thing. I drag the two of them out the way we came and toss him in the back of the car. I take the extra second I hope I don’t regret to put her in the front passenger seat instead of behind me and floor it.
* * *