Demolition Page 6

  “You tell ‘em, Reb,” I tease, grabbing the remote to pause the movie.

  Donnie opens the door, immediately making me wish I had taken that peephole advice. “What the hell do you want, Hammon?” my brother grounds out angrily. “It’s an election year. Don’t you have some political ass to kiss for Daddy?”

  “Afternoon, Donovan,” Daniel greets, tugging at the collar of his crimson red dress shirt. “Always a pleasure. How’s our girl?” he asks, his eyes scanning the room a moment before finding me.

  “Not your girl anymore, asshole,” Donnie growls, baring his teeth like a rabid wolf. “Upside of divorce.”

  “Believe it or not, Donnie, I haven’t come here to fight.”

  “What do you want, Daniel?” Returning my plate to the end table, I remove the blanket from my legs before pushing to my feet. Even standing, my bastard of an ex-husband still towers over me, but I’ll be damned if I won’t face him at my full five foot two inches. Colt is at my side, hands on my hips, helping me steady myself without so much as a word.

  Daniel looks between Colt and me for a moment before shuffling around my brother, striding my way. The moment he does, his bodyguard, Cyrus, fills the doorway, surveying the room like the hawk that he is.

  “We need to discuss the matter of your safety, Henley,” he announces, his tone only minimally condescending. In true Hammon style, he plasters on that fake dirty politician smile and dazzling charm. There was a time, very long ago, when that smile stole my breath. Now, it makes me want to throw up all over his expensive Italian leather loafers. “What kind of man would I be if my wife were hurt and I’d done nothing to help?”

  Colt’s grip tightens on me, his expression going cold. “Ex-wife,” he corrects, sounding as irritated as I feel.

  “Ex-wife,” I repeat, nodding in agreement. “As you can see, Daniel, I’m perfectly fine. Nothing at all for you to worry about. Especially since I haven’t been your problem in a very long time.”

  “In all the years we spent together, I never once considered you a problem, Henley, darling,” he croons, making my stomach roll violently. Daniel extends his arms, reaching for me. A growl rumbles up from Colt’s chest at the same time I shake my head. Dropping his hand, Daniel sighs, clearly unimpressed with my lack of excitement at his showing up at my apartment to check on me. “I’m worried about you. I’d have come to the hospital but they said you’d declined visitors. My hands were tied.” Running a hand through his tousled brown hair, he sighs. “Though, due to the circumstances, I hardly blame you for being vigilant about who came and went.”

  “I didn’t,” I start to argue, my eyes immediately shooting to my stupid, smirking brother. “Oh. Of course.” Looking back at Daniel, I shrug. “Well, on the bright side, it saved us from having an awkward conversation… Oh, wait. No, it didn’t.”

  “Thanks for your concern, Danny boy,” Donnie says, grabbing him by the arm. “But my sister doesn’t need your help. I think we can handle it.”

  “Evidently not.” Yanking free of Donnie’s hold, Daniel whips around to face him. “Look at her!” he shouts, throwing an arm out in my direction. “I’d have never allowed something like this to happen to her when she was mine.”

  “We haven’t hashed out the shit that happened to her when she was yours, motherfucker,” my brother seethes, barely keeping his shit together. “You sure you want to go there?”

  Feeling Colt go rigid beside me, I tense. Shit. This is not the time or place for this conversation. I want to leave the past dead and buried, where it belongs. “Go home, Daniel,” I interrupt, not wanting a blood bath in my living room. “You’re not needed here.”

  Turning to me again, he shakes his head. “Family or not, it’s a shame you’ve gotten yourself mixed up with degenerate thugs, Henley, darling.” Straightening his black tie, he clicks his tongue. The telltale noise of his loss of patience and disapproval runs over me like nails on a chalkboard. “Not that I’m surprised by your enjoyment of scraping the barrel of lower society. You always did—” Jerking at his collar, he clears his throat, the icy grin I know all too well spreading across his face. “Lack a certain level of class.”

  "Guess it’s a good thing you got out while you could, huh?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. “As for your concern for my well-being, I suggest you focus your energy on running your father’s reelection campaign. My brother and his degenerate thug friends will make sure I’m safe.”

  "Ah, yes. I’m sure they will." Daniel nods thoughtfully, his tone sarcastic and spiteful. Some things never change. This is the tone he used when telling me nothing I did was good enough. That no matter how hard I tried, I was never going to be enough for him. Or anyone else. Bastard. "But, they’re not just his friends, are they, Henley?” His gaze hardens as he looks between Colt and me. “Tell me, darling. Do they all get a taste of what’s between your legs, or does that get put to a vote as well?”

  “You’re a real bastard,” Rebel barks, reminding me, for the first time since Donnie opened the door, that she was behind me.

  Colt and Donnie move at the same time, everything happening so fast that there is very little time to process or react. Wedging his big body between my brother and Daniel before Donnie’s fist can connect with Daniel’s jaw, Colt shoves him into the wall. Cyrus charges into the room, his eyes trained on Daniel and Colt. Reacting quickly, Donnie elbows him in the nose. Cyrus grunts loudly, his hand coming up to shield his face, while his other goes to his side arm. Taking the opportunity, Donnie relieves him of his pistol and puts him in a choke hold. Pressing it to his temple, Donnie shoves him into the opposite wall. “Careful, asshole. Pissing me off is a bad idea.”

  Holy shit.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I blurt, stepping toward them.

  Colt shoots a look my way that has me stopping dead in my tracks. “Put your ass on the couch, Hotness,” he says, tightening his fingers around Daniel’s throat. “Torch and I are gonna take out the trash.” I feel Rebel step closer to me and grip my arm as Colt speaks, but I can’t move. Hell, I’m not sure I’m breathing. Swallowing hard, I manage to nod. After a few seconds, his gaze moves to Daniel again, his jaw ticking angrily. “Let’s go. Now.”

  Eight

  Colt

  Tightening my fingers around Hammon’s throat, it takes everything in me not to kill the son of a bitch for the way he talked to Henley. The unease and hatred that radiated off her only fed my already brewing rage. Not that I needed to be here for the conversation to know this fucker is bad news. After what she told me the other night, I’d already put that shit together in my head.

  Throwing him into the wall beside the elevator, I size him up. I can’t imagine the Henley I know marrying this rich bitch looking motherfucker. He stinks of privilege and money he didn’t work a day in his life to earn. Something I can’t see her falling for.

  None of it adds up.

  Torch releases Hammon’s goon, shoving the asshole into the elevator doors. “Stay the fuck away from my sister.” Quickly emptying the bullets from the gun, he tosses it to their feet.

  Stepping forward, I flank Torch, ready to back him up, or step in if he takes it too far. I learned a long time ago that controlling every situation is impossible. The only thing you can control is your reaction, then work to steer the outcome. This is where Torch and I differ. While my moves are more calculated and thought out, his are more reckless and driven by his amped up emotions. This usually has him going off half-cocked and making shit worse.

  Hammon’s goon steps up beside him, though he doesn’t look ready to fight. The little bitch looks ready to run like hell. Clearing his throat, he grabs Hammon’s arm. “Sir?”

  “And if I don’t?” Hammon challenges arrogantly, ignoring his man.

  “Believe me,” I growl, restraining myself from throwing the fucker over the stairwell railing. “You’re not prepared to cross that line, motherfucker.”

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” Hammon’s eyes snap to m
e, disgust filling them. I have half a foot and at least fifty pounds on this asshole, and he has the balls to look down on me. Cocky bastard.

  “Who me?” I smile confidently, making sure he knows his bullshit won’t work on me. Crossing my arms over my chest, I take another step toward him, crowding his space. “I’m the guy who’s got no problem rackin’ up the assault charge. Henley’s mine.” I narrow my eyes. “Walk away.”

  Hammon swallows hard. “For now.” Stepping back, he straightens. Grinning, his eyes move to where Torch stands shaking with rage. “But this isn’t over.”

  “You let me know when you’ve found your balls, fucker.” Looking to Hammon, he nods, his jaw clenching. “I’ll be waiting.”

  The two men turn to leave, Hammon stomping toward the stairwell like a pissy teenager. Watching over the railing, we listen to him rant and rave the entire walk to the curb, where his town car is waiting. Fucking pussy. Turning to Torch, I pin him with a stare when he starts to charge after him. His body jerks, his fists balled at his sides while he works over what to do next.

  “Know you’re keyed up,” I start, reading him like a fucking book. “Not about to let this shit go down with Henley here and a cop in the building. So here’s how this is gonna work.” Towering over him, I continue. “You’ll have to go through me to get to him. Brother or not, you’ll only get one shot at me before I put your ass on the ground.” Tapping my jaw with two fingers, I bite back the laugh I know will only piss him off more. “Either make it a good one or calm the fuck down.”

  “Jesus.” Blowing out a breath, Torch stares me down. That Wolfe temper I’ve seen all too many times in the last few days, drains from his face. His brows pinch together as he studies me. “I’m not hittin’ you,” he grunts, yanking a hand through his hair.

  “Smart.” Jerking my phone from my pocket, I fire off a text to Jinks, letting him know what I need before sending one to Stone. Not waiting for a reply from either man, I shove it back into my pocket and look to Torch. “Because you’d lose.”

  Torch doesn’t argue. He also doesn’t admit I’m right.

  “Who the hell do you think you are, asshole?” Henley grounds out the moment Torch and I step back into the apartment.

  “Henley,” Rebel hisses from the kitchen.

  “Don’t you Henley me, goddammit,” she snarls at her friend, but her gaze stays fixed on the two of us. Stepping closer, her stormy eyes flash with rage. “Did you only turn away those who came to see me at the hospital, Donnie?” she seethes. “Or did your keeping me prisoner count things like phone calls and letters too?”

  “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” Torch growls, charging around me. “Two goddamn seconds of that motherfucker whisperin’ in your ear and I’m the bad guy? Real fuckin’ classic, Hen.”

  Reaching out, I snatch his arm before he can get any closer to her. “Cool it,” I warn, knowing everyone is still tweaked from before. Including me.

  “This doesn’t involve you, Colt,” he warns, yanking free of my grip. “My sister needs to know that I didn’t run to hospital administration to handle that fucker. Trust me, if I had any goddamn clue that bastard was sniffin’ around, I would’ve handled it personally. With a shovel and a fuckin’ smile.”

  “And, at the time, we couldn’t risk that,” I admit, stepping quickly between the two of them. “Which is why I took care of it.”

  “You what?” Henley and Torch shout in unison.

  “Well this has to be a record,” Rebel interrupts, clearing her throat. “It only took that worm two minutes of stirring the shit pot before it boiled over and made a mess.”

  Henley’s puffed out chest deflates, her shoulders slumping slightly. Looking my way, the rage in her eyes is quickly replaced with something else. Something that stings. Disappointment. “I’m going to bed.”

  “We’re not done talking about this shit, Henley,” Torch snaps, attempting to move around me.

  “Done talking,” she says, turning for the hallway. “Done listening. Just fucking done.”

  Henley disappears, followed by a door closing. “Oh shit,” Rebel says, pouring herself a glass of wine. “She’s pissed.”

  “I hadn’t noticed,” Torch barks, heading to the fridge. “Any other clearly obvious shit you feel the need to point out, smartass?”

  Facing us, Rebel leans back against the counter. Arching a brow, she takes a small sip of her wine. “No,” she replies, studying Torch’s ass as he digs through the fridge for a beer. “It’s more fun to watch you fumble around blind.” Rebel’s eyes move to me. “Last door on the left, honey,” she says, clearly reading my thoughts.

  Not wasting time with conversation, I jerk my chin in thanks and go in search of Henley. Light shines from under the door, but I don’t hear much coming from the room. “Hen?” I ask, tapping lightly before turning the knob.

  “Go away,” she chokes out, clearing her throat.

  “Doesn’t work that way with me, babe.” Pushing the door open, I shut it behind me before closing the distance between us.

  Henley sits at the foot of the bed, her toes not quite touching the light blue carpet. She doesn’t look up at me. Not even when I stop right in front of her knees and ask her to. Stubborn ass. Instead, she stares down at her hands, twisting her fingers in her lap. “You went to hospital administration behind my back.”

  “Didn’t go behind your back,” I answer, not that she asked. “What I did was take care of the problem.”

  “That wasn’t your choice to make,” she fires back, finally looking up at me. “Had you asked me—”

  “Asked you what?” Cutting her off, I squat down so we are eye to eye. Bracing my hands on either side of her, I lean in close enough to feel the heat coming off her body. “You were in no shape to call shots, babe. Still aren’t. This motherfucker sends you flowers; comes here, knowin’ he wasn’t welcome. Tauntin’ you about the club while you’re still fucked up. The piece of shit was gettin’ off on makin’ you uneasy in your own space,” I growl, still pissed about how shit went down. “From what I can tell, the only mistake I made was not bashin’ his teeth down his goddamn throat the moment he stepped through your door.”

  “I never asked you to fight my battles,” she argues, raising her voice.

  “No, you didn’t,” I agree. “You’re hellbent and determined to fight every goddamn battle for yourself. I respect that about you, babe.” Reaching out, I run my thumb over her jaw. Her lips part slightly, showing a small crack in her resolve. “I made a call based on your reaction. You need to understand if he comes at you again and pulls that kind of shit, he learns how ugly life gets when you fuck with what’s mine.”

  “Yours?” Her eyes narrow into almost non-existent slits. “Listen up, Beefcake,” she grounds out, looking ready to rip my fucking head off and spit down my throat. “I don’t belong to you, or anyone else.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, babe.” Grabbing her face with both hands, I lean in and run my nose along hers. “You’ve been mine since that night on the pool table. It’s time we both get right with that,” I say, slamming my mouth to hers before she can say a damn thing in return. Mad as hell, Henley bites down on my bottom lip. Fuck. I want this woman.

  My hands go to her ass, pulling her body closer, but making sure not to push too far and hurt her. She sighs softly, her body relaxing into mine the moment my tongue touches hers. Tilting her head, she brings her hand up to my jaw, kissing me hungrily. Growling, I fight the urge to deepen the kiss and give us the release we both need.

  The time will come for that soon enough.

  “Fuckin’ hell.” Burying my face in her neck, I blow out a ragged breath. Gripping onto my forearm with one hand, she digs in her nails, shivering as my words race over her skin. “That stubborn streak of yours is gonna be the death of me, woman.”

  “Are you going to kiss me stupid every time we disagree?”

  Sitting back, I meet her wide eyes. Her lips are parted and swollen, her fac
e flushed. “I don’t know, babe,” I reply, tracing her bottom lip with my thumb. “There a better way to shut you up?”

  Her lips twitch up into a smile, stoking the fire that always seems to be burning under my skin for her. “Very funny,” she snorts, rolling her eyes.

  “We done with this heart to heart?” I ask, releasing her to stand to my feet.

  “For now,” she sighs, nodding her head.

  “Great.” Kicking off my shoes, I yank off my cut and t-shirt and throw them to her dresser. Yawning, I stretch out on her bed, making myself comfortable. Flashing her a smile, I pat the pillow beside me. “I’m fuckin’ beat.”

  Henley

  I’m on fire.

  My skin burns. Every cell of my body aching, building towards a release that never comes. I am stuck riding the fine line between Heaven and Hell, with Colt being the one behind the wheel. It is the most exquisite torture.

  “You want my mouth, Hotness?” he asks, pressing a kiss just below my belly button. Moaning, I writhe shamelessly under his hands. His calloused fingertips slide up my inner thighs, not quite reaching where I need him most. My hands tangle his hair, tugging at the damp blonde strands in an attempt to take what I need. Him. “Be a good girl and say please,” he purrs, smiling against my skin when I whimper. Shifting his body, he presses his lips to my pelvic bone.

  “Colt,” I pant, pleading for him to unravel the knots he has so effortlessly tied me in. Digging my teeth into my bottom lip, I arch my back.

  “Say it, Henley,” he breathes before tracing a line up my inner thigh with his tongue. “Then, I’ll give you what you want.”

  “Please,” I beg, unable to recognize my own voice.

  “Beautiful,” he growls against my clit. Sliding his hand up my body, he squeezes my breast. “Eyes open, babe. Watch me eat this pretty pussy.”

  My eyes fly open, meeting the fire brewing in his. He licks his lips, an ominous smile spreading across his face that has my stomach flipping. Lowering his head, he blows lightly up my center. “Fuck!” I cry out, bucking off the mattress.