Page 37 of Tattered Souls
I made it to Harlee’s old house, now Tatum’s.
I refused to associate that piece of shit with her.
I slammed the gearshift into first gear and then allowed the car to die.
I had my door thrown open and was prowling up the front lawn by the time Dom shut my SUV off and followed suit.
Two police cruisers pulled up with the Chief, and I vaguely heard, “Let Garrick handle this.”
Then I heard a roar, “Who did you call?”
And that, boys and girls, was when I brought up my boot up and kicked the fucking door in.
I didn’t wait for anything or anyone else.
Vaguely, I felt Dom walking in behind me, followed by Chief Klein.
I saw Lance, the soon-to-be dead man, crowded in front of a cowering Tatum.
I stormed forward, grabbed the back of his shirt, and threw him across the room.
Not giving a fucking shit if the fucker landed on something at a weird angle and stopped breathing. That would have been a favor to mankind.
My attention was on Tatum.
Tears ran in rivulets down her cheeks.
Her right cheek was red, swollen, and already turning a nasty color, and she had one arm wrapped tightly around her ribs.
“Did he do this?” I asked softly, even though I was seething inside.
I wouldn’t do a damn thing to scare her.
At her hesitant nod, I brought my hand up slowly, so she saw it, and ran my thumb, carefully, over her cheek.
She still winced.
And that wince... it was what had me turning on my boot, stalking to the motherfucker, bringing my arm back, and swinging as hard as I fucking could right to his goddamn jaw.
I heard something break, and then his eyes rolled back in his head, and he passed out.
How’d that feel, you motherfucker?
It was then that I noticed Chief Klein was leaning against the doorframe, watching.
I was still standing there glaring at the prick when Chief Klein’s next words, and her response had me moving.
“Tatum, darlin’, now I need you to press charges so we can get you a protective order. Okay?” Chief Klein said.
“No. It won’t do anything.” She whispered.
I moved to her and wrapped my hands around her face tenderly. “What do you mean, Tink?”
She looked up at me, and the right side of her face was already turning a dark shade of blues and purples.
“Because a piece of paper won’t stop it.” She whispered.
“How do you know that?” I asked.
