“Right here.” Joshua tossed a now cleaned off Tyler a vial of something.
“I’ll be home in an hour,” Ty stated before heading out in his own car.
****
Tyler
I flexed my fingers as I waited patiently in the dark living room of Darryl Wright’s penthouse condo. I frowned, looking around at the fancy shit he kept in his place. I hated this fucker even more than I hated Phillip Morris.
I flexed my fingers again, feeling the swelling in my knuckles from the beating I’d put on Morris’ body.
“Yeah, Leonard. I hear you. We’re gonna figure this out. You just focus on getting better and out of the hospital,” Darryl said into the phone as he entered his front door. He didn’t even see me as he wandered directly over to the glass table where he kept his nightly drink.
I smiled inwardly hearing him trying to console Leonard. Unfortunately, Leonard had had anaccidentwhile driving his motorcycle weeks earlier. A motorcycle he was forbidden to drive due to his contractual obligations to the league. Nevertheless, he’d insisted on purchasing the damn thing, and even worse for him, I not only knew about it but also knew where he lived, and therefore where he kept it, to inform my guy who knew how to tinker with anything on wheels to make them unsafe to drive. Although, they looked fine from the outside. As I’d said, I hadn’t been finished with Leonard once he’d set me up and putting his fucking hands on my woman.
“I got you, Leonard. We’re going to get every cent you are owed from the Cougars. Then we’ll get you rehabbed and you will be back on the field in no time.”
I rolled my eyes at Darryl’s lies. Leonard’s back had been broken in the accident. Though he’d walk again, he’dneverplay at the level he once had. He was lucky I’d waited until after we’d won the Super Bowl to get revenge. At least he had a ring to show for his short NFL career.
“I gotta go. Got my damn kid tonight,” he grunted as he frowned and loosened his tie with his free hand.
I glared at this asshole even harder. He really was a piece of work.
“You really shouldn’t be making promises you can’t fucking keep,” I stated after he hung up and tossed the phone in his leather couch.
“What the fuck?” he yelped as he spun around, seeing me emerge from the shadows behind his front door.
“Surprised?” I asked darkly.
“The hell are you doing in my house?”
“Decided we needed to have a little talk.”
“A talk? Fuck you! Get out of my damn house before I beat your—”
“My ass?” I questioned, eyes narrowing and stepping closer. “Let me tell you all of the ways in which that’ll never fucking happen,” I growled, moving even closer. Darryl Wright was taller than me by a few inches but I’d have no problem putting his ass to the ground. However, I was trying my best to restrain myself. “Like I said, we need to talk.”
“We have nothing to talk about.”
I watched as he twisted his neck, running his finger around the collar of his white button-up shirt, just before taking another sip of his drink.
“It was you, wasn’t it?”
He frowned, a deep V settling between his eyebrows. “Me what?”
“Who told Phillip Morris where we lived.”
His eyes widened in surprise, telling of his guilt.
I shook my head. “You gave him my home address once he figured out Destiny was behind the initial investigation into his company. It was you who told him I was out of town at training camp and she’d be home alone. Your punk ass sent a man to my house to attack my pregnant wife!” I seethed as I lunged forward, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.
He struggled to push me off but his body was already weakening.
“I-I-she’s my wife!” he blurted out. “She was mine first! She fucking left me after one fuck up!”
“You killed her fucking kid you selfish son of a bitch!” I pushed him backwards, causing him to stumble.
“Sh-shut up,” he struggled to get out in between coughing. He unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt as if searching for relief from being overheated.
