Anguish

I pull open the drawers until I find the take-out menu.

He’ll never know.

~*~*~*~

MACK

Ride me.

Ride me.

She fuckin’ said it, out loud.

She wants to ride me.

Fuck.

I pace up and down Maddox’s office. If I go home and I tell her everything I want to tell her, I’m startin’ something complicated. I’m not entirely sure Jaylah is the kind of girl that just fucks, but hell if I don’t want to ask her anyway. I’d love nothing more then to have her in my bed, night after night, fuckin’ her sweet body over and over.

But then there’s the connection . . .

A girl like her, they have one.

Guys like me, we don’t.

The shrill sound of my phone ringing jerks me out of my thoughts of screwing my nanny. I stare down at the screen and growl. Private number. Again. I know who it is, I fuckin’ know. I just don’t want to be a part of it. He won’t stop, though. No until he gets hold of me, and gets what he wants.

Revenge.

Closing my eyes, feeling my jaw tic, I answer it.

“Yeah?”

“You finally answer.”

His thick accent fills my ears and I flinch.

“Benito.”

“Miakoda,” he murmurs. “It’s been too long.”

“Not long enough, Brother.”

A low laugh. “I’m surprised you still refer to me as your brother, after everything.”

“Can’t change facts.”

“No.” He hesitates. “We have unfinished business, Miakoda.”

“Mack,” I growl.

“Such a modern name.”

“What do you want, Benito?”

“What do I want?” He laughs low. “What does Benito want?”

“Get the fuck on with it.”

“I want to make you pay, Miakoda. I want to make you pay for taking my wife and then fuckin’ killin’ her.”

“I didn’t kill her,” I hiss.

“But you did, because she loved you. She never stopped.”

“She left me.”

“She left because she was afraid, but she loved you. Now, Miakoda, I believe you have something that isn’t yours.”

Diesel.

“Pretty sure it’s mine,” I snarl.

“As am I, brother, considering I’m sterile. However,” his voice drops low, “she was my fuckin’ wife and you, Brother, stole her from me and then got her killed. Now you’ve got the child. The only thing left.”

“You didn’t love her,” I growl, low. “You laid your fuckin’ hands on her.”

“She was my wife!” he roars.

“And I was the last one to fuck her.”

Low blow. I know it. He knows it.

“You’ll pay, Miakoda. Your son will pay. Everything you fucked up in my life will be returned to you in doubles.”

“Is that a threat?” I growl.

“No,” he whispers. “It’s a promise.”

Then he flips the phone closed.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

CHAPTER EIGHT

I’m serving up Chinese when Mack storms in.

I’ve been preparing all afternoon for this so-called ‘talk,’ and so it surprises me when he storms right past me.

“Hey!” I call.

“Not interested.”

Seriously?

I watch him disappear down the hall and my mouth drops open. No, seriously? He made a big point of telling me I had to be here for our ‘talk,’ and now he’s storming to his room.

Fucking moody bastard.

As if he heard his dad come in, I hear Diesel stir. It starts with a small whine, and quickly turns into a hungry screech. I close up the Chinese containers before I go to him. Apparently I’m not quick enough, because Mack comes storming out.

“Stop worryin’ about the food and get the baby!”

“Jesus,” I say, dropping the container and walking past him. “You need to get laid or something.”

He mutters something under his breath as I disappear down the hall. I rush into Diesel’s room and lift him out of his crib. His little hands are waving about, making little fists that fly in different directions. His face is red, and he’s right into his crying fit.

“Hey,” I soothe. “It’s all right, let’s get your dinner.”

I rock him in my arms as I rush out. Mack is on the couch, staring at the football on the television, a bowl of food in his hand.

“Really?” I cry.

He turns, stares at me, and then, as if dismissing me, looks back towards the television. I lift a spoon and hurl it across the room, hitting the coffee table. I expect him to bark something cruel, or growl, but instead, he smiles. It’s only small, but it’s a smile. My lips twitch in response, and with so little words, I feel like we’ve had our first real moment.

“Come on, baby,” I coo to Diesel. “Let’s get you fed.”

I prepare his bottle and then walk over, dropping down onto the couch beside Mack. I place the bottle into his mouth and he starts sucking angrily. Hungry little champion. While he eats, I run my fingers over his soft, baby hair and smile down at him; I can’t help it. When I look up, Mack is staring at me. He has a look on his face, but it quickly disappears when he sees that I’m watching him.

I think, underneath all the stone, Mack is deep.

“I didn’t pin you for a football fan,” I say, staring at the television.