She giggles. Fuck, it sounds good.
When we reach Katya’s car, I open the passenger door and help her in. “All good?” I ask, holding the car door open.
“We got this,” Katya shoots back.
I ignore her and focus on Mia. “So…dinner? Saturday?”
She blinks. “What?”
“I’m asking you out.”
“She just got stitches,” Katya growls.
“Baby?”
Her mouth opens slightly, like I’ve stunned her. “I…ah….”
“Eight dates,” I remind her. “You signed the paperwork.”
She makes a face and tilts her head. The movement makes her wince.
“I’m in pain,” she murmurs, her voice soft, but her eyes glint with mischief.
I wink, my smile crooked. “I’ll see what I can do about that.”
She’s hurting. She’s bruised—inside and out—and Ishould be the better man, a respectful man who gives her space and softness and time. But I’m also a desperate man. A man who’s clawing his way back to the only thing that’s ever truly mattered. So no, I don’t mind taking advantage of the slightest crack in her armor, because I’m not trying to win an argument, I’m trying to winher.
I lean into the car and secure her seatbelt, kiss her cheek, and ignore her hiss.
“This coming Saturday, okay. I’ll pick you up at four.”
I close the car door gently, then tap the roof of Katya’s car.
As they pull away, I stand in the parking lot, already counting the hours—and knowing that I have to head to my parents’ place now and deal with their fuckery.
The Chief of Police, John Frizzell, is in my parents’ living room, looking haggard. Ron Dempsey, the family lawyer, doesn’t look any better.
“Finally, you’re here,” Dad bellows when he sees me. “I told you to control your wife. You didn’t, and now she’s pressing charges against Edith.”
I suppress a smirk.
“Chief. Ron.” I nod in greeting. “Dad, Mom physically assaulted Mia.”
“That’s an exaggeration.” Mom folds her arms.
“It was an altercation.” Gianna walks in then and sets a glass of wine in front of Mom, because obviously, she needs alcohol in this situation. “You need to ask Mia not to do this.” My sister sits next to my mother. My father is on her other side.
The chief and Ron are sitting across from them on a matching sofa. I’m still in the doorway, like I haven’t decided if I should go in or not.
“If Mia drops the charges, all of this goes away,” Chief Frizzell says.
I nod slowly, as if I’m considering it. “What do you mean byall this?” I ask.
“It means”—Dad stands up, he does that when he goes into bully mode—“I won’t sue your bitch for slander.”
I walk up to my father and grab his shirt.
He glares at me, his eyes burning with fury. “What the fuck?—”
