by Ali Parker
Now somebody needed my help and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do for them.
And this wasn’t just somebody. It was Aiden. The only person who really made me feel safe and who had changed how I thought I deserved to be treated by men. He was sweet to me, and not because he wanted something from me. He was protective, but not in a controlling or manipulative way.
And he made me feel good.
And he was stuck on the other side of the door with a shit faced Vinny—a monster.
My phone rang in my hand.
I gasped and stared down at the screen as Ellie’s name flashed across it. I had to punch the green phone icon three times with my finger before it answered the call.
“Hey,” Ellie said. I heard a door close in the background. “Sorry I missed your call. My phone was on vibrate. We just got home. Did you have a good time? I haven’t had fun like that in ages and—”
“Ellie. We’re in trouble.”
“What?”
“Aiden needs help.”
“What’s happening?” Ellie asked. I could hear Axel asking her questions now.
“Vince followed us back to his place and crashed his car into Aiden’s garage. He nearly ran us over. And now Aiden is locked in there with him and I don’t know what to do and I don’t trust Vince not to try something crazy and—”
“Take a breath, Cheryl. Axel is on his way.”
I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Please tell him to hurry.”
“He’s already out the door.”
“I didn’t know who to call,” I whispered. “I didn’t know if I could call the cops what with the whole, well, motorcycle gang thing—-”
“Club,” Ellie said.
“Whatever. I’m scared for him. Vince is mean when he’s drunk.”
“You made the right call, Cheryl. Stay calm. Aiden is tough. He knows how to handle himself in a fight. And he won’t be alone for long. You just stay where you are and do as he says, okay?”
I swallowed.
“Okay?” Ellie repeated.
I nodded frantically and forced my thick tongue to work. “Okay.”
Chapter 23
Aiden
Vince let out an angry yell and took a swipe at me with the broken piece of my exhaust he clutched in his hand. He must have been piss drunk not to be bothered by how hot that metal must have been.
I jumped back out of the way and skirted around him to draw him away from the door into the house.
He followed my retreat, waving the piece of chrome exhaust in my general direction while slurring a string of curses at me. “Fuck you, you fucking miserable pathetic excuse of a man. She could never want you. What could you give her that I can’t?”
A dozen answers raced through my head, but I knew they were the sort of things you didn’t say out loud to an irate moron.
I could give her a safe home, a happy place, a trustworthy partner, laughter, fun, relaxation, a sense of adventure, and a family. The Lost Breed.
“Answer me!” Vince bellowed, stumbling forward and knocking a bunch of my tools off the top shelf of my tool box.
Jackass.
I held up both hands. “Vince. You’re drunk. And you’re in a lot deeper than you think. You just drove your car through my garage, man.”
“I wanted to drive it through you,” he snarled.
“Well you gave it your best shot, sport.”
“Don’t patronize me,” he slurred.
“Don’t come into my home and threaten me then.”
Vince narrowed his eyes and swayed on the spot. Truth be told, I wasn’t too interested in fighting him. Guys as drunk as Vince was were hard to beat in a fist fight. They didn’t feel any hits you landed on them, and they usually didn’t quit until they were unconscious.
And Vince looked like the sort of guy who could take a punch.
His nostrils flared and he leaned sideways into the Mercedes. “You stole her from me. Everything was fine before you showed up.”
“If by fine you mean you were getting away with sleeping around with other women, then yeah. Sure. Things were fine.”
“Fuck you, man.”
I shrugged. “Listen. You can blame me for this falling apart. But it wasn’t me who made you cheat. And it wasn’t me who made you treat Cheryl like shit for years. And it wasn’t me who talked her into leaving your ass. She walked out on you by her choice. And it was the right choice. Look at you,” I gestured at all of him. “You’re a joke. And she deserves better. If you can’t see that, you’re thicker than I thought.”
He snarled and lunged forward. I sidestepped his swipe effortlessly. That was the good thing about drunk guys. They had no coordination. I would at least have that advantage over him. But it was only a matter of time before I got tired or he got lucky.
“Vince,” I said sternly. “The two of you are through. It sucks, but you have to accept it. Pulling a stunt like this won’t get her back, and even if it could, you’re missing the point. She’s free to walk away from you. You don’t own her.”
Vince’s lips peeled off his teeth in a wicked sneer. “Yes I fucking do.”
My hands tightened into fists at my sides. “You know, guys like you give the rest of us a bad rap.”
“You think I give you a bad rap?” Vince scoffed. “It’s the degenerate, dirty pricks like you bringing down the gene pool. We need less of you uneducated losers and more driven, determined working men like me who know how to provide for their family.”
“Provide? Let me guess, a perk for providing is being able to knock your woman around when you have a shitty day at the office? Sounds fair. And very educated.”
Vince rolled his shoulders. “I’m going to mess up that face of yours. Give Cheryl something real fucking ugly to look at. If she wants you she can stare at your ugly mug for the rest of her life. Fuck that fat, stupid, free loading—”
I charged him.
The yell that came out of me was pure fury and my attack caught him off guard. He didn’t have a chance to defend himself with the part of my exhaust, which I knocked from his hand before dealing him a blow right to the gut. The air rushed out of his lungs with a grunt and he cradled his stomach.
I didn’t give him time to recover. No fucking way. This asshole deserved everything he was about to get.
I backed up a bit, just to give myself some space in case he decided to come for me, and then drove my knee up into his chest.
He stumbled back into the Mercedes, which creaked and groaned under the impact. Then he leaned forward and braced himself on his knees to catch his breath. He glared up at me from beneath his dark brows and shook his head. Then he started laughing.
“It’s been awhile since someone hit me,” he said.
“That’s surprising. I’m sure a lot of people you come across in your daily life would love the chance to break your fucking nose.”
“They’re beneath me,” Vince said, wiping sweat from his upper lip with the back of his hand.
I laughed. His ego was mind boggling. He genuinely thought he was a God among men, above all consequence, punishment and repercussions. “Well,” I said, clenching my fists and preparing to take him on again, “you’d better prepare yourself to get your ass kicked by one of the schmucks you hate so much.”
Vince, still all cocky arrogance, grinned before springing forward and taking a swing at my jaw.
I ducked out of the way of his barreling fist, came up the length of his arm to drive two punches into his right hip, and then rolled past his shoulder to step in behind him, where I kicked him in the back of his right knee, sending him to the cement floor of my garage.
Vince let out an angry bellow and spun on his knees, lashing out with a kick that connected with my shin. It hurt—like a motherfucker—but it didn’t knock me down.
I backed away as he stumbled back to his feet.
He didn’t seem at all bothered by the hits I’d dealt him and I knew the two punches to his hip would have rattled him had he been sobe
r. It wasn’t a place that felt good to get hit and it would, at the very least, hinder his movement for at least a couple minutes.
But Vince didn’t give a damn.
He advanced on me again, this time holding his fists up in front of his face like a trained fighter might, and began walking in slow circles.
I didn’t put my back to him. I kept my eyes trained on him and didn’t flinch when he made a couple fake jabs in my direction.
Vince chuckled, apparently amused by the whole situation. I wasn’t laughing.
“I’m gonna wipe the pavement with you,” Vince taunted.
“I’m sick of talking.”
“Then fight me. Coward.”
How Cheryl had put up with this clown for so long I had no idea. But this was my chance to make him hurt for all the shit he put her through. I’d have to be a fool to pass up on an opportunity like that.
The law would even be on my side.
This was classic self-defense. A break and enter with a vehicle as a weapon. I had all the right. All the power.
And all Vince had was an impending drunk driving charge and, with any luck, a broken nose.
Maybe worse if I was lucky.
Vince dropped his head and sprinted for me.
I didn’t get out of the way this time. He wasn’t getting through me. I was going to take whatever hits I had to in order to bring him down.
He tackled me to the ground. I landed hard, the cement biting into my shoulder blades as Vince struggled to gain the upper hand.
I drove my knuckles into his gut.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
And then he struck me across the jaw.
The hit scattered my brain inside my skull. Stars exploded behind my eyes and I shook my head, desperate to clear the blurring vision and fight off the ringing ears.
The guy could land a hit.
Vince was laughing. It sounded like I was under water. The cackle was muffled as Vince gathered the front of my shirt in his fist and lifted me off the ground before slamming me back down.
I groaned with pain as the back of my head slapped against the cement.
“How does that feel, asshole?” Vince jeered.
Vince tightened his grip on the front of my shirt. My jacket had slid off one shoulder and I had the bizarre thought that if he put a hole in my leather I’d rip his throat out with my bare hands.
And then I’d crush his fucking Adam’s apple with the heel of my boot and smile while he bled out on my garage floor.
Instead of trying to murder him, I twisted out of his grasp and drove my knee up between his legs.
I never claimed to be a fair fighter.
Vince wheezed in agony as I shimmied out from under him. He braced himself on all fours before pushing himself up to sit on his knees, clutching his family jewels with one hand.
I dragged the back of my hand across my bleeding lip. Then I stumbled to my feet and shook out my right hand. My knuckles were starting to hurt and I hadn’t even landed a hit on the guy’s face yet.
Vince got to his feet too, still groaning with pain as he nursed his balls. “You bastard.”
“That was for my bike,” I said.
Vince licked his lips. Then he smiled, and I knew by the look in his eyes that he wasn’t playing around anymore. He wanted to take me down so he could get into my house and get to Cheryl.
She’d better have locked the damn door like I told her to.
Vince charged.
I braced myself.
We slammed into each other but neither of us was willing to give up any ground.
He drove his knee into my thigh. I elbowed him in the nose. Then I got a good hit in to his ribs, but he managed to do the same to me, and when I went to take him out by going low he drove his elbow into the back of my neck, sending me sprawling on the ground beneath him.
His boots blurred in and out of my vision as I pushed myself up to my hands and knees.
Then he drove his boot into my stomach and I went down again.
“Stay down, bitch,” Vince spat above me.
Then he moved toward the door.
I spat a mouthful of blood on the cement.
Got back up to my hands and knees.
Stumbled to my feet and managed to take a few steps.
“Stay away from her, Vince,” I said.
He stopped and looked back over his shoulder. His smile was pure insanity. Unbridled fury, jealousy and rage. And he’d just found his punching bag.
Chapter 24
Cheryl
I stared at the door handle to the garage.
Vince and Aiden had been in there for a good five minutes.
At first I hadn’t heard anything. Then their voices grew louder until Vince’s angry yell punched through the door. I heard him bellow, and then I heard the sounds of a fight start on the other side.
It was taking every ounce of self-control I possessed not to go in there and try to make them stop.
I knew firsthand what sort of damage Vince was capable of. He’d never struck me hard. He hadn’t ever even punched me. But he’d slapped me once or twice and pushed me into things more to scare me than to hurt me.
It had been enough.
I worried what he would do to Aiden—someone just as big and tough as Vince was himself. He wouldn’t hold back. He’d be there to do as much damage as he possibly could. And he’d enjoy every second of it.
He used to smile when he hit me.
I knew he got off on pain.
Sadistic bastard.
I hated that Aiden was the one suffering his wrath right now. All of this was my fault. I was the reason Vince had come all the way here and driven right through Aiden’s garage door. I was the reason his bike was destroyed and the reason why he might be bruised and bloodied on the other side of the door.
I swallowed.
How drunk was Vince? Would he stop if things got too far? Was he even self-aware enough to know what constituted as too far?
With the damage that had already been done, there was no way we were getting out of this without the police getting involved. It was only about ten o’clock at night, so I assumed the neighbors had already gotten on the phone with the emergency lines and reported that some lunatic had just driven his Mercedes through their neighbor’s garage. I hoped someone had called.
God. I hoped they’d all called.
A loud crash sounded from the other side of the door. I flinched and jumped back like there were sparks flying off the door.
An angry yell followed the crash.
My stomach turned over as fear sunk its teeth into me. Real, icy, cruel fear. My breathing quickened.
It had never been this bad before. I never imagined a situation where Vince would become unhinged like this. I should have seen this coming. I should have—
My mind suddenly stopped like a car running out of gas. Then it slowly started turning again, but all the clouds of doubt that Vince had planted there were suddenly gone. Just like that.
None of this was on me. Not really. Sure, I should have left him a long time ago, but I wasn’t the one who’d made him do this. I didn’t make him cheat. I didn’t make him drink himself stupid until he decided to take matters into his own hands in the worst way possible.
He was the one who was guilty for always making me think everything was my fault.
Fuck Vince Price.
Fuck him and everything he stood for and everything he’d made me believe about myself over the last few years of our time together. Fuck him for taking advantage of me when I was weak and hollow after losing my mom and dad.
And fuck him for thinking he could strut over here and take me back like I was a lost puppy that had wandered out of the backyard after someone accidentally left the gate open.
None of this was an accident. I’d chosen this. And damn it all to hell I was going to stand strong in my convictions.
Even if facing him scared the shit out of me.
Especially because facing him scared the shit out of me.
My hands were no longer shaking when I unlocked the deadbolt and then the door handle. Then I pulled it open. A wave of warm summer night air washed over me and I stepped into the garage, sucking in a deep breath of humid air through my mouth and looking around at the mess the two men had made.
My gaze landed on Vince and Aiden.
They were at the rear end of the Mercedes. They were both on their feet, although it became quickly clear to me that Vince was supporting Aiden with his fist wrapped in the front of his shirt. Aiden was a bloodied mess. He had a cut in his right eyebrow, his bottom lip was split, and there was dark bruising forming beneath his right eye.
Vince wound back his free hand to deliver a blow to Aiden’s face.
“Vince!” I yelled.
It wasn’t a scream. And it wasn’t weak. The power that lined my voice surprised even me, and it did the trick, gaining me Vince’s attention. He turned to look over his shoulder but did not loosen his grip on Aiden, who’s eyes, the right one very swollen, flicked to me.
“Cheryl,” Aiden started.
I held up my hand and took three steps closer to them, still maintaining a good ten feet between us. I wasn’t going to get within reaching distance of Vince if I didn’t have to. I could stand up to him, but if things got physical I knew I stood no chance against his strength. And with him this drunk he wouldn’t just push me around. Not this time.
He’d want to hurt me.
“Vince,” I said, forcing myself to remain calm as my insides squirmed at the sight of Aiden’s busted face. “Let him go.”
Vince sneered at me and I spotted his chipped front tooth. He had a bruised jaw and was favoring his right side. He wasn’t in the best shape either. His face was bright red with fury and the vein in his forehead seemed to pulse. I knew it was my imagination but I couldn’t take my eyes off of it.
“Vince. Let him go. He’s had enough. You both have. You made your point. We get it, okay?”
Vince shook his head. “No. You don’t fucking get it, Cheryl. The only way I’m stopping is if you leave with me right now.”