Monster A Dark Arranged Marriage Romance - Vanessa Waltz Page 0,39
tanned face broke with a laugh.
“Jennesy?”
The pink-haired girl whirled around. “Christian! Ohmigod. What are you doing here?”
“Picking up Evie.” He leaned in, waving at her baby. “Who’s this?”
“My son, Benjamin.”
“I’m Christian. Nice to meet you, buddy.” Christian tickled his cheek, and the baby grinned. “Are you teaching him how to play Asteroids?”
“Hah—no. He just likes the music and lights.” Jennesy’s grin widened at Christian, who seemed taken with her. “Geez, you’re tall. What are you, six-four?”
“Six-two.”
She beamed at him. “I bet you have girls climbing you all day long.”
“Yeah, sure. I’m constantly beating them back.”
“So modest. I love it.”
I could’ve gagged.
I grabbed Christian’s arm. “Get her number, and let’s go.”
“You must be Costa.” Jennesy’s unimpressed tone matched the disdain in her eyes. “Evie’s not happy with you.”
Shocking. “Where is she?”
“Somewhere.”
“I don’t have time for this. Tell me where my wife is.”
Christian’s elbow jabbed my stomach as I stepped forward. He shot me a venomous look. Fantastic. My backup was white-knighting a chick he’d talked to for three seconds.
“How about this?” Christian suggested warmly. “Point us in her direction, and I’ll take you and Benjamin out for dinner.”
Jennesy perked up. “When?”
“Whenever you want.”
“Tomorrow. But I’ll get a sitter for Ben.”
“Deal.” Christian offered his hand, and the baby grasped his pinkie. “See you, little guy.”
They exchanged numbers, and then Jennesy gestured down the hall. “She’s in Ghost’s room. The sixth door on the left.”
That name punctured my chest.
She went to him?
Why? What did that fucking kid have that I didn’t?
Regret pulsed through me in sickening waves, reminding me that my actions had consequences. When I pushed her away, she ran straight into the arms of a man who gave her more—the biker boy.
I stormed the hallway, groping for my gun before realizing it wasn’t there. Muffled raised voices echoed from inside. The hairs on my neck stood. I kicked the door in.
The kid from my wedding grappled with my wife. Tears stained Evie’s cheek as she screamed something incoherent. Red smeared Evie’s chin like a blazing flag.
Blood.
My body throbbed.
I ripped him off her and pounced on Ghost. He barely got his hands up. I seized his neck, shoving his head into the wall, smashing through plaster. I dug into his soft flesh, squeezing. Lights popped in my head as though I were strangled. I clocked him in the jaw and sent him flying. Crimson sprayed from his nose. I bashed in his ear, his shit-eating grin. Every part of him I could reach. I stomped on his fingers. I introduced his head to the table and the floor.
Screaming. Someone yelled. A nagging sensation registered in my knuckles. Shockwaves rippled up my arm, and then the world exploded into bright red. My hands were slippery and hot.
The boy rolled on his back, leather cut splayed open. He was shattered. It was like I’d taken a meat tenderizer to him. He made gurgling sounds.
I kicked him between his legs.
“Tony, let him go!” Christian shouted, grabbing me. “You’ll get us killed!”
I hurled Christian off me, and then Evie took my wrists. The image of her battered face stabbed somewhere deep. I was angry—I was scared. My vision clouded with incomplete scenes. Evie alone with this man. Him beating her into submission. Raping her.
The agony cleaved into my skull.
I closed my eyes and jerked on my hair, distracting myself from the pain. The memories. I yanked as tears stung my eyes. Tears I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to feel.
Fuck it all.
All I wanted was to save her.
White Russian. A milky drink materialized. Two ounces vodka. One ounce Kahlua. A splash of heavy cream—
I couldn’t stop seeing it. Ice gripped my throat.
“Tony.”
Evie’s tearful voice snapped me out of it. I met her gaze. She peered at me cautiously but said nothing. She didn’t ask what was wrong. She didn’t have to.
She probably already knew.
Evie gave me a bear hug that squeezed air from my lungs. I clung to her like a drowning man on a raft. Panic faded to overwhelming relief, and then her mouth brushed my cheek. Lips softer than feathers pressed into mine.
Our mouths met in a clash of heat. It burned into my chest. She tasted clean. Intoxicating. Like a glass of top-shelf vodka straight from the freezer, smooth and deeply satisfying. She drew me closer and crushed my mouth, her kisses drugging me with every soft stroke. Evie’s hands caressed my back, gliding over my scars to hook onto my shoulders.