Page 53 of Absinthe Dreams
"Be right back," I murmur when Chloe glances up at me.
She just smiles in response.
I'm halfway to the kitchen when I hear the doorbell ring.
"I've got it!" I call back to the dining room, reversing course to head that way. My brows furrow when I see a middle-aged guy on the other side of the door. He's bulky, his suit wrinkled. He keeps running his hands through his gray hair like he's nervous. Something about him is vaguely familiar, but I don't put two and two together until I pull the door open and see the purple bruise across his jaw.
Motherfucker.
Rage immediately shoots through me, but I try like hell to keep it in check.
He seems surprised to see me, like I wasn't who he expected. Sucks for him. "Uh, I'm here to see Chloe," he says.
"And who are you?" I block the entrance, refusing to let him look past me. I don't know why the fuck he's here, but there isn't a chance in hell that he's getting near my girl.
"Is she here or not?"
"Not your business until you tell me your fucking name."
I already know it, but I want to hear him say it anyway.
"Donny. I'm her boss."
"Wrong answer, you prick," I growl, reaching out to wrap my hand around his tie. I yank him into me, bringing my knee up at the same time.
He yowls like a bitch when it connects with his balls.
"You were warned to stay the fuck away from her," I growl, pressing him up against the side of the house with my hand still wrapped up in his tie. He struggles to break free, but he isn't going anywhere until I decide to let him. "You should have listened."
"I just want to talk to her," he says, his voice high-pitched and desperate.
"Fuck no."
"Son of a bitch," Colton growls from somewhere behind me before he and Pops are suddenly at my side, bristling and snarling at Donny like they're ready to commit murder, too. "I told you to stay the fuck away from my daughter, motherfucker."
"I just want to talk to her!" he shouts, desperation in his voice.
"I already told you no." I jerk him away from the wall and then slam him into it again. "You aren't getting anywhere near my fiancée, not if you want to keep breathing."
"F-fiancée?" He gapes at me like I'm speaking a foreign language.
"Yeah, fiancée," I repeat. "Meaning she's mine. She's always been mine. She'll always be mine. And the only reason that you're still breathing right now is because I'm not going to let a predatory prick like you take me away from her."
"I just want…"
"Nothing," Colton snaps at him. "You want nothing, Donny. You have nothing. You are nothing. And hell will freeze over before I let you near my daughter."
"I just want my wife back!" he shouts.
"Jesus Christ." Pop scowls at him. "And let me guess, you think it's Chloe's fault that your wife left you?"
"She sent her messages. She turned her against me," he says, as if the messages she forwarded weren't the ones he sent. As if he thinks he did nothing wrong here. Men like him? They're always the victims in their own minds. Doesn't matter how old they grow; they never leave that childish bullshit behind.
"I've seen those messages," I say, my voice flat. "She didn't send her a goddamn thing your wife didn't deserve to know about the prick she married. You were beating off in your office, watching my fiancée. You don't deserve your wife. You damnsure don't deserve to breathe the same air as Chloe. And I will kill you without hesitation or remorse if you come anywhere near her ever again."
"It was a mistake!"
"Right. Your dick just fell into your hand," Pops snorts. "You know, I've met motherfuckers like you before. You're all the same. You don't deserve your wife. You damn sure don't deserve my daughter-in-law. You don't even deserve the air you breathe."
