Bride bit her lip as happiness tore through her. She could kiss him again for that.
"I'm her boyfriend."
"Ah," Vane said. "You're the skank dickhead." He looked back at Bride. "I thought you threw this loser out."
She smiled even wider before she cast an evil glare at Taylor. "I did, but he came back begging."
Vane looked over her shoulder at the movers, who were quickly piling her furniture and boxes on the sidewalk. "What are they doing?"
She drew a ragged breath at Taylor's cruelty. "Taylor is paying them to leave my stuff on the street like trash. Whatever I try to pay them to take it to my apartment, he's going to double it."
Vane looked less than pleased by that. "Really?" He lifted his chin. "Hey, guys?"
They paused to look at Vane.
"Ten thousand dollars to take her stuff inside and put it wherever she wants it."
The tallest of them laughed. "Yeah, right. You got it on you?"
Vane left her side. He pulled his cell phone off his belt and handed it to the man. "Press one and it rings Wachovia. Ask for Leslie Daniels, she's the bank president, and give her your bank and account information. She'll wire it instantly into your account, or to Western Union if you prefer."
The man looked skeptical, but did as Vane asked. As soon as he asked for Leslie, his eyes bulged.
He looked at the rest of the movers and then went to the truck to pull out his checkbook.
Vane winked at her.
A few minutes later, the mover came back and returned the phone to Vane.
"She wants to talk to you to make sure you're Mr. Kattalakis."
Vane took the phone. "Hey, Les, it's me Yeah, I know." While he listened, he passed an angry glare at Taylor. "Tell you what. Make it fifteen thousand for them. They seem like damn decent men Yeah, okay. I'll talk to you later." He hung up the phone and looked at the movers.
The one in charge offered him a nod of admiration. "Okay, guys, you heard Mr. Kattalakis. Be careful with the lady's stuff and put it wherever she wants it."
Vane passed what could only be called a shit-eating grin toward Taylor.
"You feel like doubling it now?"
Taylor started toward them, but the feral look on Vane's face made him take a step back.
Taylor raked them with a disgusted curl of his lip. "You're welcome to the fat bitch."
Before she could blink, Vane had Taylor thrown across the hood of his car and his hand wrapped around his throat.
Bride ran to them while Vane beat Taylor's head against the hood.
"Vane, stop, please! Someone will call the cops."
Snarling, Vane let him go. "You ever insult Bride again, I swear I'll rip your throat out and feed you to the gators in the swamp. You understand me?"
"You're crazy. I'm swearing out a warrant for you."
Vane smiled tauntingly. "Please try it. All I have to do is press two on my phone for my attorney. I'll slap you with so many suits for so many years, your grand-kids will be the ones who go to court."
Crawling off the hood of the car, Taylor narrowed his eyes, but he clearly knew he'd been outmaneuvered. His breathing ragged, he grabbed open his car door, got in and squealed off.
"Hey, lady?" the mover asked. "Whenever you're ready to show us where to put this stuff, please let us know."