“Yeah, I didn’t think so. If you don’t want me to drag your ass to the nearest police department, you better shut the hell up.”
“On what basis?”
I stepped closer. “How about your outstanding warrant?”
“Wait.” The color drained from his face as he scanned the surrounding parking lot. Looked over his shoulder toward the main light. “How would you know about that? Are you a cop or something?”
“Police Sergeant with Nashville PD, precinct twelve.”
“Her ex was acop?!” He cussed.
It pleased me immensely Miranda had never told him I was in law enforcement. “I know plenty of people. Wouldn’t take but one phone call to get you cuffed.”
His face pulsed red with anger. “This was a set up!”
“Nope. I just want their stuff and I’m out of here. If you’re smart, you won’t move.”
He leaned back against the truck, scowling and murmuring profanity. I bent to grab a box, keeping him within my line of vision. As I heaved a third box into the bed, he muttered something that zapped the last of my in-tact restraint.
“I should’ve let her and her bastard go to the streets.”
I whipped my head around. “What was that you said?”
He spat the words, cool and unintimidated. “Good riddance. She’s an ungrateful bitch.”
It was like I was being remote controlled. Possessed zero power over my appendages. My fists were in his collar and I slammed him against the side of the truck so hard he winced. But then he smiled, enjoying the ruckus. I pressed into his upper sternum, listening to his airwhooshout. “Say it again. I dare you.”
His words were squeezed. “Good luck in bed. She’s a boring?—”
That’s when I jerked him off the side of the truck and let the first punch fly. Clocked him square in the jaw. Felt the impact zing up to my elbow. My anger had a target and I aimed again, following him as he staggered backward.
A random car pulled up and rolled the window down. “They okay?”
Pat called back, “Nah, they’re fine. Just solving something the old fashioned way.”
The guy laughed and drove off.
When he gained his footing, my second hit landed right in his diaphragm. He grabbed his midsection and doubled over, moaning. His back hit the concrete. It took two seconds for me to kneel over him and deliver more punches to his nose and an eye.
Chris got two hits in. Somewhere on my face but I hardly registered them. Less than a minute later, Chris’ face spewed blood and he wasn’t fighting back.
Strong arms locked around my shoulders.
“Jack!” Pat dragged me off him. “That’s enough!”
Blood pooled in my mouth and I spat before yelling down at Chris, who was moaning on the ground. “You aren’t allowed to eventhinkabout my wife like that.” I wound a foot back to deliver a kick, but Pat’s arms were still dragging me off. My boot barely missed Chris’ ribcage.
His chest heaved. “Ex-wife.” The lunatic had the audacity to correct me?
“Currentwife.” I lifted my left hand. Ring in full view. “If you ever show your face in Nashville or contact my family, plastic surgeons won’t know what to do with you.”
It took two more minutes to get everything into the back of the truck and secured with ratchet straps. Chris laid on the ground the entire time. When we were finished, I dropped the cash on the asphalt next to him. His whopping five-hundred bucks. I thought about withholding it and just driving away, but I didn’t want to give him a reason to hunt me down.
He slowly stood and flipped us the bird on the way out. I smiled.
Flipped one right back.
FORTY-EIGHT
