Page 100 of Mad Love

“Yeah, I remember you. She sure as hell doesn’t. Did you know she called out my name when I royally fucked her the night she asked you for a divorce? Ouch.” He brushes off an invisible piece of lint from his black polo shirt. “Must be an ego buster for an egotistical prick like you.”

He’s standing beneath the light above the door. His shirt should help him blend in with the night. Except the color stands out for one reason. Blaise hates the color black and the fucker in front of me is to blame.

Red fills my vision.

Growling low in the back of my throat, I swing my fist and land a blow on the side of his head. He tips over, but doesn’t fall over. Hale has a good three inches on me as well as bulk. He swings. I duck but am not fast enough. He clobbers my head. I see stars. He gets me with an upper cut. My jaw slides to the right. He comes at me again and again with his fists.

My skin swells up. My lip splits, and I taste blood.

Gritting my teeth, I sock him in the stomach. Grab him by his head and jacking my knee up, I slam his noggin on my knee. There’s the satisfying crack of his nose breaking.

Good.

He deserves more than a broken nose for what he did to Blaise.

The bastard’s not done with me.

Grabbing me by the waistband of my fucking jeans, he slams his fist into the spot above my kidney, over and over. Shit, by tomorrow I’ll be pissing blood.

I grunt. Prying his fingers off my pants, I shove him away then charge him, pummeling my fist into his face again and again. My knuckles catch on his teeth. The skin breaks. Dammit, now I’ll have to get a tetanus shot or something. Don’t want no damn infection from shoving my fist into the dirtbag’s mouth.

I hit him with my fist. Get him with an uppercut like he did to me. Go below the belt with my knee to his groin. He doubles over. I skitter back, and hunched over, I catch my breath.

Bad move to make.

I look up.

Hale has a gun aimed at my head.

I straighten. “You don’t want to do this, Hale.”

“Why the fuck not?” He undoes the safety. “She doesn’t want you. She’s only ever wanted me. Blaise belongs to me. She was promised to me.”

“That so?” In the corner of my eye, I see Cillian’s head of security with his gun drawn. “As far as I’m concerned, Blaise doesn’t belong to anyone. Who she loves is her choice to make.”

“Then make her change her mind.”

“I can’t make Blaise do anything she doesn’t want to. Let her go. Give yourself up. Confess.”

“I’d rather die.”

He got his wish. Cillian’s man pushed me aside and shot Hale point blank between the eyes.

Shit, that man can do a fast draw.

A real cowboy.

Remind me not to mess with the dude, ever.

After we wait for the cops and give our statements, I return home to my wife, ready to hold her in my arms.

I hope with time, my love for her will help her forget her nightmare at the hands of a guy that couldn’t seem to let go of their past together. Or at least, I hope my love can give her a reprieve from her nightmares.

Violence begets violence.

Kindness and forgiveness begets kindness and forgiveness.

I look back at Hale’s lifeless body.

Reality is suffering and pain.

May he never rest in peace.

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