He nods, sallow, pocked cheeks wobbling with the motion.
Snapping my fingers several times rapidly, I point at the counter. “Put my phone back and fuck off.”
Randall pulls my cell out of his back pocket and places it on the counter with a muted thud, then high tails it out of my van.
Where he runs directly into Weston and Wyatt.
TWENTY-SEVEN
WESTON
Just like we knew he would, the guy that Iknowhas to be Amelia’s brother lumbers out of her van, looking like he’s seen a ghost.
Still gaping at what’s behind him, he doesn’t realize Wyatt and I are about to make his day a lot fucking worse.
He bumps right into my chest, and then he reels back, right into Wyatt’s, who’s caging him in.
The shitstain is lanky, but not as tall as either of us.
“Hi,” I say, menace laced through the word.
“The fuck?” he sputters.
“Are you doing here?” I finish his question.
“We were wondering the same thing,” Wyatt says in that terrifying tone of his.
The two of us step closer to him, and he has nowhere to go but for his back to go against the van.
“Who are you?” the guy squeaks out.
“Angel’s new family.”
“I’m her brother now,” Wyatt says with a toothy grin that doesn’t suit himat all.
“Okay, I’m fucking leaving!”
The fuckwit holds his hands in front of his face, cowering.
“Oh, so it’s okay for you to corner someone who’s smaller than you, but not for others to do it to you?” I ask him.
Standing outside this van and waiting to hear a sound that would signal I needed to barge in was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Harder than leaving her here alone earlier today. Never have I ever had to practice self-restraint like that. Except maybe now, when I want to deck this fucker and possibly take a few of his teeth as a keepsake.
I’m going to have to get Mrs. Dixon, Ernie, and the entire town grapevine a really fucking big thank you basket for tipping us off to her brother’s presence in town, letting us figure out where he was headed.
If that article hadn’t come out today on Amelia that got all their attention, with Randall’s mugshot included in the section on him, they might not have recognized who he was and given us the heads up. Weird how shit works out sometimes.
“It was family business!” he defends, face still screwed up like he thinks we’re going to punch him.
I fucking wish.
The adrenaline coursing through my system needs an outlet, but I know my girl and using violence to defend her honor is thelastthing she would want.
“You have no family here,” I tell him.
“And you have no business here,” Wyatt adds on.
“All right, I’m going!”
