“But I don’t,” I said, gripping her wrists and pushing her away from me. “What did I tell you the last time we spoke?”
The tears appeared next, and her bottom lip trembled. “It’s not true. I don’t believe it. I don’t believe it’s over!”
“I don’t give a fuck what you believe!” I hadn’t meant to raise my voice, had wanted to keep this as cordial as possible even though it was a ridiculous scene. There was no way she would make me believe that her horny ass had been celibate all this time, just waiting for me to come back to her.
August was gorgeous and rich. Her company was successful and in demand. She could have any man she wanted. Just not me.
“I told your ass this was over a long time ago. Told you to stay the hell away from me since you acted like a bitch in heat. Now, I’m telling you again that I don’t want you.”
“But why? We were so good together and you can’t deny that!”
“Because I’m married!” I shot back.
Her eyes widened and she looked like the air had been sucked out of her lungs. “You’re lying,” she gasped. “You are fucking lying to me.”
After digging into my pocket for my wallet, I flipped it open and pulled the ring out of one of the credit card slots. I never left home without it and after this weekend, it would never be hidden again. Putting my wallet away, I pushed the wide eternity black gold with black diamonds ring onto my finger and held it up so she could see. “Married. Taken. Not Available. I. Only. Want. My. Wife.” I spoke slowly so she couldn’t possibly miss my meaning this time.
She surprised me by stepping close again to grab my hand. Pulling it close she examined the ring then spat, “You bastard!How dare you marry some other bitch after all the time and effort I put into you?”
I chuckled; but wasn’t shit funny especially not what was about to happen. I grabbed her wrist, this time applying more strength than I had when I pushed her away. “Make that the last time you put your hands on me.” I walked her back toward the door. “And, August, hear me clearly when I say this because it’s the last warning you’re gonna get. Don’t come here, don’t call here, don’t pop up at my house or wherever you think I’ll be. Or I promise I’ll burn you and your shit down to the ground.”
Her back hit the door.
“I hate you, Fury Mathias,” she hissed.
“Good. Now get the fuck out of my office.” I released her wrist, then reached around her to open the door.
Right on cue, a security guard appeared on the other side.
“You and your new bitch can go straight to hell!”
She took a step forward, and the guard blocked her path. I stepped close behind her, leaning in so my mouth was right up against her ear. “Make that the last time you refer to my wife like that, or any way at all. Or your ass will make it to hell before either of us. Don’t play with me, August. You know I don’t take disrespect lightly.”
She knew I didn’t take that shit at all. But if she wanted to fuck around and find out, that could definitely be arranged.
Wisely, she didn’t speak another word, and security escorted her toward the elevator. I gave Sonya a knowing look before retreating into my office again. She would add August to the no-entry list that the doorman knew to abide by. Even if she showed up again, she wouldn’t be allowed inside.
Dropping into my chair, I sighed heavily. This day had turned into a roller coaster of events and emotions, and I desperately wanted to get off the ride. I wanted this shit with theraid to be resolved quickly so I could focus on the only things that mattered—my business and my wife.
CHAPTER 8
Fury
By midnight I was tired as hell.
I stayed in the office longer than I intended, and by the time I finally made it out at a little after five, traffic was already in full swing. The normal forty-minute drive from the city to Destine took an hour and fifteen minutes, which meant I was late for dinner at Aunt Josie’s. She answered the door with a knowing nod and a warm hug. Then she ushered me to the dining room table that I swore was as old as me and fed me until I thought I would bust.
For the next couple of hours, I enjoyed sitting in the matching recliner next to Uncle Irv and watching the basketball game. Making time for family, for simple things like dinner, basketball, and piping hot peach cobbler with a generous scoop of vanilla bean ice cream on top, was a must at this point in my life. Truthfully, I’d always tried to make time for family. While usually Sunday dinners would be considered family time, my mother was big on Monday night gatherings, just like Aunt Josie. It came from the fact that their father was a Baptist preacher and oftentimes had multiple services to preach onSundays. By the time he came home all he wanted was peace and quiet, which meant his chatty daughters needed to have been fed and tucked in their beds by the time he returned.
For months after my mother passed, I skipped the gatherings at Aunt Josie’s, not wanting to be around anyone if I couldn’t be with my mama on that day. Pops was gone by then, had passed after an ambush three years before Mama suffered a heart attack. And while I knew KC and I weren’t alone, I still felt Mama’s loss as if we were. Until Uncle Irv showed up at my office on the compound with his shotgun.
“I’d hate to have to shoot my nephew,” Uncle Irv said, scratching his head with the hand that wasn’t holding the gun. “But if my wife sheds one more tear because you don’t show up at dinner, I’ll put a hole in your chest to match the one you must have in your head.”
Needless to say, I took my ass to dinner the very next Monday. Not because I believed for one moment that Uncle Irv, the retired bus driver, was actually going to shoot me, but because I didn’t want to cause my aunt any more tears. Especially, if I put a bullet in her husband’s head for daring to walk onto Ryder territory and pull a gun on me. There had never been a man that pulled a weapon on me that lived to tell about it.
Now, after the delicious food and trash-talking on behalf of our favorite ball players, it was time for me to get to work.
The Lily of the Valley Funeral Services buildings were closed for the evening. I cut my lights as I turned into the parking lot and drove around to the back. I passed the manor-style brick home which housed the viewing rooms, chapel, courtesy lounge, selection room and offices, and made my way past the building where repasts were accommodated. Proceeding down a short incline, I followed the narrow road to the right and pulled into the open spot left between two hearses.
