Gripping the leg of the overturned table, I stomp on it until it breaks. Being forced to wait gave me time to blow off some of my steam. My now controlled fury lingers for me to use on the unfortunate couple who chose to cross me.
The P.I. will call once Beau leaves; he didn’t leave for work this morning like he was supposed to. I’ll be ready. I’ll piss on them once they die.
My phone chimes in my pocket. Heaving, I fish it out with my free hand.
Unknown: He just left.
The burst of happiness I feel is so euphoric I begin laughing just as Emma enters my home office. The pictures are at her feet, but she doesn’t see them until she’s finished surveying my mess. Her eyes widen when they land on the picture of Beau removing Celeste’s panties.
The hurt she feels by seeing the pictures is hilarious. This stupid bitch thinks her feelings have more weight than mine? She wasn’t married to either one of them.
“What the fuck do you want, Emma?”
“I came to see you but…” Her lip trembles as she tears up. I don’t have time for her bullshit.
“What the fuck are you crying about, Emma?”
“It hurts seeing him with someone else.”
I drop the table leg on the floor and head to the door. “Doesn’t matter. I’m killing both of them.”
“Wait! No,” she cries like her opinion matters to me.
I stare at her hard because she’s killing my window. “You told me for a reason. This is what you wanted.”
“No.” Her tears are flowing freely and pissing me off. “I said I didn’t like her like you didn’t. Not this.”
“LOOK CLOSELY AT THE FUCKING PICTURES! They’re dead. They’ll be broken up for eternity.”
Emma grabbing my arm on the way out is the last straw. I grab her by the throat and throw her across the room. Her body hits the banister and crumbles to the floor. She groans in pain and holds her head.
That was a nice warm-up. Feels like old times.
“You’ll shut the fuck up and stay out of my way!” I warn her right before I punch her and knock her out.
Hopping in my truck, I peel out of my driveway. Time to go kill my woman.
Beau
I stayedhome with Celeste as long as I could until a meeting pulled me out of my home. My resident expert is meeting me with parents in a nasty custody battle. I know both care about their children in their own way, but it’s never okay to use innocent children as pawns for adult bullshit. I’m hoping my child psychologist can help them take a step back and understand that they need to consider the well-being and mental health of their children. Both are wealthy, child support is not going to hurt either.
I feel encouraged after the hour and a half of mediation that they understand why it’s important to find something healthier to do with their anger toward each other. Usually, lawyers battle it out only concerned about their win. I, however, believe finding the most painless way possible for people to separate is winning for everyone.
My phone rings. I sigh when I see Emma’s name. I haven’t spoken to her in awhile, and I prefer it that way. She calls again, and then, my office phone starts ringing once my cell goes to voicemail. I grab the office phone and cradle it between my ear and shoulder while I look for the protective order paperwork I started on Emma.
“This better be an emergency,” I begin but pause when I hear her crying.
“Thank God you answered.” Her words are a little slurred like she’s not in her right mind. “Wes wants to kill you. I can meet you in Mexico.”
“Um, hell no, and what the hell are you talking about?” Hearing his name has triggered my adrenaline, and I start packing up to get to Celeste.
“He has recent pictures of you two stripping on your couch. He said he was going to kill you,” she cries.
Fuck. The open door last night.
“When did he say this?”
“I don’t know? Maybe 20 minutes ago?”
