Page 21 of One Night Collision

I nod, watching him retreat to his car parked down the street. The house is silent, immaculate. Everything about it screams money without taste. I make my way to Calvin's study, knowing the pretentious bastard would want to conduct his business dealings in a room designed to intimidate.

I settle into his leather chair, propping my mud-caked boots on his expensive desk. The Italian rug beneath glows in the dim light from the desk lamp I've switched on. I want him to see me like this—in control, in his space.

I check my watch. According to his housekeeper's schedule that Troy managed to get, Calvin should be home any minute from his weekly poker game. The sound of the front door opening confirms it.

I hear him moving through the house, the lights flicking on one by one. When he enters the study, the shock on his face is worth every second of planning. I put my boots down with a grin.

"How did you get in here?" Calvin asks, his voice tight with anger.

"Don't worry about it. What you do need to worry about is what I'm going to tell you."

He looks down. "Get your fuckin' boots off that Italian rug."

With a smile, I grind the heels in. "Fuck off, Cal."

"What do you want?" He crosses his arms over his chest, sneering at me.

"Two things." I hold up my fingers. "If you think you're going to take my parents' farm, you can fuck right off. Your feelingsare hurt because I've got something you thought you could scare into keeping. I get it, you haven't been told no a whole lot in your life. In fact, the last time was probably in high school when I told you I wouldn't leave you alone with your prom date because I heard what you said in the locker room about getting what you paid for. But my parents' farm isn't for sale. If you buy the mortgage, I'll pay it off, and then sue the fuck out of you." I stop for a second, taking a deep breath. "Number two, you're going to tell Maggie she's free to have the life she wants. If you refuse to do that, I'll sue you. She deserved alimony, and you somehow got around that. The statute says we can go back and get you for it. I'll gladly represent her and bankrupt you."

He's sweating, his face red with anger. "Is that all you got for me?"

"No, actually it's not. You keep fucking around and I'll tell my buddy at the federal prosecutor's office about your tax evasion. I'll get this house at auction, Maggie and I will raise a family in it, and we'll keep that goddamn ugly painting of you in the foyer up. Every time we pass it, we'll laugh."

He's grinding his back molars together.

"You got me?"

"Yes." His nose flares.

"Good. Text her while I'm here, and let me see it, you piece of shit."

I watch as Calvin pulls out his phone, his fingers trembling slightly with rage. He types out a message, and I motion for him to show me the screen before he sends it.

Maggie—I'm releasing you from our agreement. You're free to live your life however you want. I won't interfere anymore.

"Send it," I command, and he does, his jaw clenched so tight I can almost hear his teeth cracking.

I stand up slowly, enjoying the way he flinches when I move toward him. "One more thing. I ever hear you've been talkingshit about Maggie or trying to intimidate her in any way, I'll make sure everyone in this town knows exactly what kind of man you really are."

I walk past him, deliberately bumping his shoulder. At the doorway, I turn back. "Oh, and Cal? You might want to clean that rug. Looks like my boots left a mark."

The night air feels cleansing as I step outside. I check my watch—seventeen minutes. Not bad. Troy nods at me from his car, and I give him a thumbs up before climbing into my truck.

The adrenaline is still pumping through my veins as I drive away from Calvin's neighborhood. I feel lighter somehow, like I've slain a dragon that's been breathing down my neck for too long. But there's still one more stop to make tonight.

Maggie's apartment complex comes into view, its windows glowing warmly against the night sky. I park in the visitor's spot and check my phone. There's a message from her:

Calvin just texted me. What did you do?

I smile to myself, typing back:Be there in 5. Got something to tell you.

As I climb the stairs to her apartment, I feel a nervousness that has nothing to do with confronting Calvin. This is about something more important, something real. When she opens the door, her expression is a mix of confusion and wonder.

"Damien, what the hell happened?" she asks, pulling me inside.

I look at her, at the woman who's somehow managed to get under my skin and into my heart, and I know this is just the beginning of our story.

"Let's just say," I tell her, taking her hand in mine, "you don't have to worry about Calvin anymore. Neither of us do."

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