Page 25 of The New York Nighthawks: Vol 1

“Let’s talk,” I growled, marching into the house, leaving him no choice but to jump out of the way or be trampled.

“You must have a death wish,” Nixon murmured as he brushed past Mark, elbowing him in the gut. “Fucking with a Nighthawk, means fucking with us all.”

I stopped in the center of the open living room and faced the sniveling weasel with my arms crossed and my feet braced apart. My boys gathered behind me.

“Explain,” I snarled.

Mark huffed. “Seriously? You fired me to get pussy”—I nearly flattened him for that comment, but Kellan—an offensive lineman—held me back for the moment—“then told her I was a stalker. What did you expect? I am what you made me. Karma, huh?”

“Are you actually trying to tell me I’m to blame for your actions?” I was stunned and so fucking pissed I was seeing red. “Are you insane or just really fucking stupid?”

Mark scoffed, but he quickly shut up, and his face paled when I took a menacing step forward.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to come clean about your actions to the press and issue an apology for your bad judgment. And then I better not see your face ever again.”

Mark’s mouth dropped open, and he gasped like an offended toddler. “That will ruin me!”

“Like you tried to ruin my sister?” Nixon snapped.

“If you think I care about what this does to your career and reputation, you’re more delusional than I thought,” I growled. “You’re lucky you’re not going to be breathing through a tube for the rest of your pathetic life.”

Mark looked terrified, but he still tried to grasp onto a little backbone and argue with me. I didn’t let him get a single word out, though.

“Don’t push it, motherfucker. Putting you in the hospital has only been tabled for now. You do what you’re told, and you’ll keep that face of yours intact. Is that clear?”

Mark deflated and slunk back a couple of steps until he was pressed against a wall. “Yeah. I get it.”

“Fantastic,” I said with false cheer. “I look forward to your announcement tomorrow.”

As we filed out of the house, each of my teammates whispered something to him before loping out to the car. By the time we’d all climbed in, Mark looked like he was about to piss his pants. I didn’t wait around to see if he did because I was hell-bent on getting back to my girl as soon as possible.

The next morning, Naomi came rushing into the kitchen while I was making breakfast. “Prentice! Holy cow! Did you see the news?”

“Hmm?” I responded nonchalantly.

“Your former social media guy told everyone he was behind the leaks. And apologized! How crazy is that?”

“Completely crazy,” I agreed as I turned off the stove and pulled her into my arms for a long, deep kiss. “But I want to talk about something else.”

“Oh?” Naomi was a little dazed as she smiled up at me.

“You have until the end of the season, baby.”

“End of the season?” Her eyes clouded with confusion.

“To plan our wedding. If I had my way, we’d go to the courthouse today, but I think your mom would hand me my ass on a rusty platter. So I’m willing to give you until after the Super Bowl.”

Naomi’s mouth opened and closed a few times before a wide smile split her face. “I can make that happen.”

“Good. Now sit down and eat your breakfast so I can take you back to bed and eat mine.”

EPILOGUE

NAOMI

Glancing around the kitchen table at three of the people I loved most in the world, a huge grin split my face. “Our first family dinner as a married couple, and all of my favorite people are here.”

“You get sentimental about the weirdest things,” Nixon muttered, shaking his head.

---