Page 101 of Riding the Pine

“Scottie. What can I do for you?”

I guess someone did his homework after he forced himself on my girlfriend.

“I’ve been expecting you’d want a little chat about that little tiff I had with your girl.” He snorts. “Misunderstanding.” He sweeps his hand like he’s brushing what happened under the carpet.

“You know how it goes. Some bitches just want what they can’t get at home.”

This fucker thinks he’s getting away with it.

I don’t know if this guy is a straight up psychopath or is suicidal, but my hand is curved into a fist and exploding into his body before he can suck in another breath.

When he doubles over on a gasp, I grab him by the back of his shirt and haul his ass between the houses.

If I’m seen, I’m seen.

This fucker’s getting taught a lesson.

I hate that I’m so unhinged, I hate that I’m thinking of harming another human being, I hate that my family’s inherent nature is rearing its ugly head inside my chest. But I keep rationalizing clocking this guy in the face.

Which I do twice.

If I do it, maybe it’ll save someone else from being hurt by his hand.

A knee to the face has him slumping onto the ground.

If I do it, it’ll save Ares getting in trouble, because we all know he’s got that murderous look on his face that isn’t going anywhere.

I stick my boot in his ribs.

If I do it, it’ll make us all feel better.

Another kick.

What if they don’t get sent to jail for what they did?

He curls into a ball, blood streaming from his nose and mouth.

Another kick, there’s a crunch, a groan, and I run.

And I don’t fucking stop.

CHAPTER 43

Artemis

Something’s wrong.

Scott’s been gone for too long. He’s not answering his phone. And the fact he’s been away from Athena for this length of time is… troubling at best.

Athena’s gone back to bed. It’s early, but she’s been through a lot today, and if sleep helps get her through another day, then she can sleep as much as she wants to.

I pull my shoes on. Apollo quirks a brow at me, and I widen my eyes. As though he’s dialing into our twin link, he nods his head. We don’t want to rouse Ares. He’s running hot, and even the slightest thing could tip him over the edge.

Trying to sneak away undetected, I simply nod at Apollo and turn to the door. I turn the handle, pull it open, and almost walk into barely standing up, Scott.

He stumbles into the apartment, there’s blood all over his clothes, a sweep of blood across his cheek, and he looks like he’s just run a marathon.

It takes us all of a fraction of a second to figure out what he’s done. Apollo and Ares jump to their feet.

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