“He’s the one that …”
I remember what he’d said about her, the bullshit he’d spewed in my fucking club about my woman. Anger erupts inside me like lava, but I try to hide it from Diamond so I don’t scare her. “Yes. And I may gut him based on that alone.” I kiss her again. “But I need to go. Malone needs my help.”
“Be careful, okay?” She palms my cheeks and stares into my eyes. “Please?”
I kiss her, softly this time. “I’ll come back to you, Diamond. I’ll always come back to you.”
20
Diamond
I take a few more pictures of the kittens and Mama before I slip from the closet. I can’t believe how fast they’re growing already.
I’ve been doing whatever I can to pass the time until Devlin comes home. I sent him a few of the pics, but he hasn’t responded, which only makes me worry more.
As much as I don’t care for this Alonzo guy, I don’t want Devlin killing him and starting a war over the jerk being an asshole to me. If he had to do that for every man that’s ever been rude to me, there would be no men left in the world.
I should be grateful to Alonzo. In a way, the man played a part in tying Devlin and me together so quickly. He made me fall right into my future husband's arms. Devlin should only rough him up a bit, not too much. Honestly, at this point, I don’t care what he does to him as long as he comes home safe and sound.
I come to a stop at the bottom of the stairs when I see two men I recognize. And not because they are Devlin’s men. They’re my father’s soldiers. I have never cared for any of my father’s men.
“Look who it is,” Jeremiah sneers. I never understood his hate for me. It’s grown worse over the last few years.
“Why are you here?” I take a step back.
“Daddy wants to see his little girl.”
I shake my head. I don’t want to see him. “I’ll wait for my husband.”
I’m not expecting the slap. The side of my face explodes with pain. The ringing in my ear is instant. I drop my ass down on the bottom step so I don’t fall, then lift my hand to my cheek, shocked that Jeremiah hit me. My dad may have been an asshole a lot of times, but never once had he lifted a hand to me. And I’m pretty sure regardless of the circumstances, he’s not going to be happy to find out someone else did.
“What the fuck J?” Benny yanks Jeremiah back, pinning him to the wall. I blink, trying to get my bearings.
“Fat bitch thinks she can say no.” Rage pours off Jeremiah. For the first time, his words don’t hurt me. Especially when I see his eyes lingering on my legs.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Benny gets in his face. He’s always been the nicer one. But not to be mistaken as friendly. He more follows what my father says to the T. He would never actually come to my defense because it was the right thing to do. Right now, he’s acting on my father’s behalf.
“She had that shit coming after giving me the slip.” He must have gotten in a lot of trouble for me sneaking out under his watch. I can only imagine the hell my father rained down once he realized I’d gone missing.
“Maybe do your fucking job better and we wouldn’t be here.” He steps back, releasing Jeremiah from his hold. “It’s not her father you should worry about at this point.” Benny reaches his hand out to me. “Up.” I ignore him and get up on my own.
They both can go fuck themselves. Benny is right. Jeremiah is likely a dead man once Devlin finds out he laid his hands on me. My husband wants to kill Alonzo for saying some mean words to me; I can’t even imagine what he’s going to do to Jeremiah.
“Where is my husband?” I ask. There’s no way anyone would let them in here. Devlin is too possessive to allow two of my father’s men to come and get me, even if my father has requested I come to see him. Devlin would take me.
“He owns a strip club and is married to you.” Jeremiah leers. “I’m guessing balls deep in another bitch.”
This time it’s me that reacts. My hand connects with the side of Jeremiah’s face. The pop sounds loud in the room.
Benny yanks me to the side so hard I almost fall over again. I’m thankful for it, though, because Jeremiah tries to lunge for me.
I shouldn’t have let his words get to me, but there’s always that small amount of doubt that lingers in me. I can’t help it. Years of being told I’m not good enough can’t just be washed away like dirt. Words like that are grimier, wounding in a way that leaves a sort of tattoo only I can see.