into it. Giselle was trying to take something from Summer, but their struggling actions prevented him from seeing clearly.
“Get your filthy paws off my daughter,” Summer shrieked so loud he wouldn’t have been surprised if she woke the whole neighborhood.
Then in slow motion, she hauled her arm back and punched forward, smashing her fist into Giselle’s face. Blood and spittle exploded from Giselle’s mouth. Then because punching someone wasn’t badass enough, his golden girl picked up her leg, pivoted to a defensive posture, and kicked Giselle in the stomach so hard she flew backward into a wall and slithered to the ground half-conscious.
Standing over her like an avenging angel, Summer had her hands clenched in fists, ready to do god only knew what. It was a beautiful sight.
“Move and I swear to God, you’ll be swallowing your teeth.”
Wow. Summer kicking ass was ridiculously hot.
“Dad,” Stan mumbled before dropping to his knees.
Arnie felt the burn of Summer’s glare. She gave the same glare to his dad. “Do either of you know how to call an ambulance, or must I do that too?”
When he told this part of the story to King and Jon, he was going to leave out how his dick reacted to her ballsy attitude.
While his father dealt with Stan and Summer guarded Giselle, Arnie alerted his LAPD contact before placing the 911 call for an ambulance and officer assist.
A noise he didn’t recognize caught his attention. He scratched his head and looked around for the source.
“Can I bother you to deal with this?” Summer snarled in a less than friendly tone. She gestured to Giselle, gave him a disbelieving glare, made him feel like an idiot, and turned away.
She went to Stan and his dad, asking, “Ned? Is it really Ned?”
He nodded.
“Is he okay?”
“He’s lost a lot of blood.”
“Summer,” Stan mumbled. “I tried to stop her. Is the baby okay?”
Summer patted something hanging near her stomach. “She’s fine, Stan. Slept through everything in her sling until just a moment ago. Thank you,” she murmured to Stan. “And thank you,” she said to his dad.
Did she also thank him? Abso-fucking-lutely not. All he got was an angry glare.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she muttered before marching right past him as though he wasn’t even there. He watched her stomp through an archway into the guesthouse bedroom. He waited for the door to slam and was surprised when it didn’t.
Conflict raged inside him. His brother took a bullet, and his father looked like he was hanging by a thread. He wanted to follow Summer, but the situation was not secure.
There was only one thing to do. He took off his belt and used it to tie one of Giselle’s wrists to the opposite ankle. Unless she knew how to move like a crab, she wasn’t going anywhere.
“Dad, you got this?” he asked with his hand reassuringly on his father’s back.
Stan looked at him. He was dazed. “She freaked out when she realized Dad and I were on to her. I can’t believe my own mother shot me.”
He checked Stan’s gunshot wound and calmed down. It looked like a clean shot to his bicep. Thank god she had shitty aim.
“You’re gonna be fine,” he murmured. “The ambulance will be here any second.”
“Let the groveling begin,” his father tried to joke, but his ashen face told Arnie how much of a strain he was under. “You go on, son. I’ve got this.”
Arnie stood and nodded. Then he sniggered. “Did you see the way she dropped Giselle? Ah ha ha. Fucking awesome.”
Stan chuckled, despite also groaning, and put up a fist. Arnie gently bumped it with his. Then he took a deep breath and started for the lioness’s den.
Summer throbbed with a potent blend of endorphins, adrenaline, relief, and incandescent anger.
“Your daddy is an asshat,” she complained to Ari as her daughter suckled greedily, oblivious to the drama they’d all been through.
“How the hell am I supposed to explain this in your baby book?”
With the baby cuddled close, she feathered her fingers gently across Ari’s head and caressed her cheek.
“Hardly the three wise men,” she snorted. Disbelief assailed her fraying emotions. “More like stooges. Three of them. In a family business. Dad and sons. Ergh,” she angrily grunted. “And who the fuck is McGee?”
“It’s a joke,” a deep voice, thick and unsteady, responded.
Her head snapped up to find Arnie staring down at her. His blue eyes gleamed, but his expression was wary.
“Go away,” she snapped.
“No.” He knelt beside the glider. They were eyeball to