Kendall was too exhausted to defend her son.
“He loves Johnnie.”
“That’s his fuckin’ problem.”
“It doesn’t give him the right to disrespect you, my dear,” Brooks told her. “Frankly, I’m shocked and disappointed in him.”
“Go talk to him,” Outlaw instructed. Once Brooks left, he sat in a seat, folded his arms, and cocked his head to the side. “You preparin’ to leave Johnnie?”
“Does it matter? Rory will hate me.”
“Rory can live happily ever after with that fuckhead. I heard you fucking screaming, Kendall. You lost your fucking shit. No motherfucker worth that. Not Johnnie or not akid you brought into this world who just fuckin’ disrespected you to high fuckin’ heaven.”
“I love my son.”
“He love you?”
Defeated, Kendall lowered her lashes.
If she left now and Outlaw killed Johnnie, Rory would hate her forever. “I’m not leaving my husband,” she said quietly, even if just speaking those words seemed to turn her insides to stone.
She felt alone, lost in a dark world without an escape.
“Diesel outside in his Mercedes. Take Rory and let Diesel drive you two home.”
“I need my truck.”
“Ima take care of it.”
She grabbed her purse and her coat and started out.
“Kendall?”
Outlaw’s call halted her at the door.
“If Rory step out of line with you while he in that fuckin’ car, Ima beat the fuck outta him. Johnnie might be the head of your house, but I’m the head of the fuckin’ family and Rory outta fuckin’ chances to straighten the fuck up.”
Kendall nodded and walked out with those words ringing in her ears.
The moment Johnnie walked into his house, exhausted from the long flight and his emotional turmoil, he knew Kendall was there. Her expensive perfume lingered in the air, but it was more than that, deeper, as if her mere presence touched his soul and brightened his surroundings.
Yet, his anger and jealousy persisted, blocking out his happiness and relief that his wife had returned.
Pausing long enough to set his keys and his briefcase on one of the hallway benches, he stalked up the staircase and headed to their bedroom, opening the door without knocking.
Kendall was lying on the bed, curled up and wrapped in a thick, white towel. Hersuit was strewn across the bed, her pumps in two separate places as if she’d thrown them.
Alarm surged into Johnnie and he slammed the door shut, rushing toward her.
She lifted her head, her red hair damp and tangled. “Get out.”
Her sharp tone killed his concern. “Where did you go?”
Her head dropped back onto the pillow. “Go away, Johnnie.”
Kendall wasn’t in a good place. Over the years, he’d made it his mission to study his wife and gauge her moods, so he’d know how to help her and keep her safe. Buthewasn’t in a good place right now. He was scared he was losing his beloved Kendall. No matter how he acted, he adored her. Unbuttoning the buttons on his sleeves, he rolled them up and sat on the edge of the bed next to her.
“Did you and Mortician go away to fuck?”
