Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32426 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32426 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
He gives me the smile I hate. It’s what I heard called the bro smile once, guys that think because they look down on women that every other man does too. “Oh, I see what she’s done. She’s made you think I’m the bad guy. Well, let me tell you about this little whore—”
He doesn’t get the rest of the words out because there’s a spray of blood and a satisfying crack as my knuckles connect with his nose. He yelps, and I release him so he can collapse onto the floor.
“Do you have any idea what you just did?” He demands, clutching at his face.
Callie steps closer to me, and I instinctively put my arm around her shoulders, drawing her even closer.
“I don’t know who you were talking about,” I say, “but this woman is my wife. She’s my whole damn world. Now, if you don’t want to spend the rest of your life shitting in a bag, I’d advise you get the fuck out of here and never contact her again.”
“I’ll sue her for the ring,” he insists, his voice coming out in a nasally tone.
Callie looks down at him. Her features aren’t twisted with anger or hatred like I expected. Instead, there’s only pity on her face as she says, “And who’s going to pay for that lawyer? We both know you wouldn’t be here if mommy and daddy hadn’t finally cut you off.”
“Just give it to me,” he pleads, defeat finally crossing his features. Underneath his eyes are already turning purple and his nose has a knot that’s rapidly swelling. It brings me some satisfaction to know he won’t be able to sleep comfortably for the next few weeks.
I reach for him, and he flinches. Fucker isn’t just a big talker. He’s a coward too.
I grab his shoulder and haul him to his feet. “Say you’re sorry to my wife, and you get to walk out of here. Don’t say it, and you’ll spend the next six months in traction.”
He drops his gaze to the floor. “S-sorry.”
“Like you mean it,” I grit out. “Or your wrist is next. It sucks when you can’t even wipe your own ass.”
“I’m sorry.” He whimpers. “Don’t let him hurt me. I didn’t do anything.”
“Except walk out on the most beautiful woman in the world and her child,” I mutter. I won’t even acknowledge Danny as his. In my mind, he’s nothing but a sperm donor.
She sighs, her voice weary. “Just go, and don’t come back.”
“Are you sure?” I ask softly, already knowing she’s going to grant him mercy. Not because he deserves it but because of who she is. I’m in awe of her strength and dignity, of the way she’s carried on with her life despite what this scumbag did to her.
“He’s threatened me! You heard him! He’s going to hurt me.”
She blows out a breath. “Then I suggest you leave before he can.”
It’s all I need to hear. I propel him out the door and down the porch. “You’re lucky. If she’d wanted your head, I would have given it to her.”
He swallows audibly. “I owe a lot of people money.”
“You know she could come after you. Something tells me a judge won’t look favorably on a man who walked out on his baby.” From the five minutes in his presence, it’s obvious that there are only two things that Corey cares about—money and his next game.
“I never wanted it!”
He doesn’t even have the decency to call Danny by name, let alone to refer to him as a person. Rage floods through my veins, and I raise my fist, prepared to strike him.
He stumbles out of my reach. He throws up his hands, carefully guarding his bruised face. “Wait, wait, we can talk. Maybe I have a boat or something.”
He’s probably after the rings because he’s gathering every asset he can think of and preparing to sell them all. I doubt it will cover his debts. Guys like him always get in too deep.
I snarl, “She doesn’t need a damn dime from you. But when you get back to whatever pit you crawled out of, you’re going to call a lawyer and have the paperwork started to terminate your parental rights. The boy is mine. I claim the right to be his father.”
“You want him?” Surprise crosses his features, as if he couldn’t imagine someone wanting the bundle of joy who loves nothing more than waving at the toaster and tugging on Rudy’s ears, who gives me the sweetest smiles when I reach for him, and wraps his perfect fingers around my thumb when I’m giving him a bottle.
“How could I not? He’s perfect.” I’m already looking forward to all the things we’ll do together as he grows. I’ll teach him to build block towers and count to ten. I’ll show him how to fix tractors and talk softly to the heifers and feed the chickens. He’ll grow up with dirt under his nails and a Stetson on his head, just like his old man.