The older man shuts the front door and moves to stand to my right. “My son said he had an emergency that couldn’t wait and asked me to come over immediately.” His gaze darts to me. “Who is he, Floyd? And what the fuck are you doing to him?”
Floyd makes that dark chuckle again. “This,” he points at me. “Is the man fucking your son. The one intent on ruining our deal.”
“Jesus.” Ralph shakes his head, blowing out a breath as he turns to look at me. “I don’t know what your story is with my son, but you can’t get involved in this. There’s too much at stake.”
“Fucking hell,” I scoff, wincing as I rub my neck. “You don’t need to tell me what’s at stake!” My words come out raspy, my throat stinging much like it does at the start of a bad cold. “Why don’t you ask your son-in-law where Darius is right now?”
Ralph looks at Floyd, but neither man speaks, so I pipe in with the truth.
“Darius is at my place. Recovering.”
Ralph raises an eyebrow, a frown deepening on his forehead. “Recovering from what? Why isn’t he here like his message said he’d be?”
“Because I sent that message. Darius is in bed, covered in bruises after taking a beating from this piece of shit.” I point at Floyd. “Your son came to me, barely conscious, covered inbruises and with a fractured wrist. A wrist Floyd fractured for thesecondfucking time.”
Ralph’s features darken and his nostrils flare.
“You hit my son?”
Floyd grins, all fake charm and cold eyes. “I put myhusbandin his place. We had a deal that included making this marriage look real and he’s off fucking around with this one.” He taps his chest. “He’s mine until I have my money.”
Ralph is seething, his face flushed red. “I specifically told you not to touch my son!” he yells. “Thatwas the deal. He’d marry you and pretend when he needed to, but you werenotto touch him.”
Floyd opens his hands, palms up. “Oops. Guess I forgot.” He smirks, stepping closer to Ralph and, on instinct, so do I, even if I don’t fully believe this man deserves protection. “What are you going to do about it?”
Ralph visibly draws back. His Adam’s apple bobs as he regards the other man and the hesitation on his features stirs the anger inside me. It’s very fucking clear what he needs to do.
“Fuck the deal!” I shout when Ralph says nothing. His attention flicks to me. “Darius is hurting because of your mistakes. All the things you did wrong, he’s paying for now.” My throat tightens and my eyes burn. This is the second time in my life I’ve had to fight for a parent to make the right choice. To put their son first. I only hope this time it doesn’t end in disappointment. “Do you care so little about him you’d put yourself above his happiness and safety?” Ralph purses his lips, his eyes dipping to the floor.
“Is it worth it?” I ask. I’m met with a silence that hurts like a punch to the gut. “Answer me damnit!” I get right in Ralph’s face. “Is. It. Worth. It?”
Chapter 36
Darius
“Ollie?” My voice croaks when I call his name, and I cough to clear it. The action has a sharp pain pinching behind my ribs. I don’t know what the time is, but I feel like I have slept for both hours and for no time at all. My body aches in that way that says you’ve been lying down for too long, while exhaustion sits heavy behind my eyelids. “Ollie?” I call again, getting no answer. There’s the hum of washer/dryer combo beneath Dermot Kennedy’s melodic voice flowing from the speaker Oliver has in the kitchen. I can’t see past the bookshelf at the end of the bed, so I can’t tell if he’s even in the apartment.
With a grimace, I shift until I’m sitting up, the blanket pooling on my lap and cool air caressing my overheated skin. I’m naked, skin slick with sweat and the taste of metal on my tongue. Looking down, I want to cry at the state of my torso. Pale skin mottled with shades of purple. I rub a hand over the bruises – my skin is warm to the touch, swollen and tender.
The front door closes, and there’s the distinct sound of feet on hardwood floor. Peering up, I expect Oliver to round the divider, frowning when it’s Darcey who appears. She’s dressed for work, though her shirt sleeves are rolled up and her hair is hanging loose, not in the bun she usually has it in for the office.
“Hey, babe.” Her eyes home in on my chest and a flash of fury crosses her features before settling into a soft look of concern. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore. Tired. Hungry. What are you doing here?” Pulling the blanket higher to cover myself, I tuck it beneath my arms.
“Ollie asked me to come over.”
I look over her shoulder, though I know he’s not here. “Where is he?”
Darcey settles at the end of the bed, leaning with one hand on the sheets and the other on my calf, covered by the thick duvet.
“You know where he’s gone.”
I shake my head, not wanting the answer to be what I think it is.
“No. No. No. Please tell me he hasn’t gone to see Floyd?”
She shrugs.
