Page 69 of Old-Fashioned

I wrapped my arm around her waist and said, “No. I will deal with this, and then I’ll deal with the trash.”

Both of us ignored the woman’s outraged gasp.

I hit the button on Birdie’s phone and took the call once I saw the name, “Yeah?”

“Umm, who is this?” Mr. Anderson asked.

“This is Abel.” I told him.

“Oh! Hi Abel, I thought it was you but wanted to make sure, I’ve heard great things about you and can’t wait to meet you, however, I need to tell Birdie something, is she busy?”

I looked at the piece of trash and said, “Considering her piece of shit mother just walked into the bar, yeah, I would say she’s busy.”

He cursed, “Damn it. That’s what I was calling her about. I wanted to give her a heads-up. I don’t know how she found out about the will and Mrs. Goldstein, but she did. And my assistant didn’t know not to tell her anything. But alas she told her where Birdie was.”

“Thanks for calling. Should something happen, should we use my lawyer? You know, for future reference and all that.” I asked.

He chuckled, “I’m not throwing hate at anyone. However, being the kind of lawyer I am, and that Birdie is a client, and she is rather important to me, I would prefer if y’all used me.”

“Got it. Okay. I’ll have her call you later.” And with that we said our goodbyes and hung up the phone.

Then I handed Birdie her phone, looked at the woman, and used a particular tone I only ever used when the beast was ready and raging, “You have to the count of five, to tell us what the fuck you’re doing here. And then, you have until the count of five to turn your disgusting ass around and get the fuck out of my bar before we are closed due to a health violation.”

She now had both hands on her hips, “Well, I never…”

Whatever she was about to say was cut off when I said, “Five.

“This is some kind of joke, right? What is her pussy made of gold or something? You know, she came from me… you would be getting all that gold straight from the source.”

Now, let me make something perfectly fucking clear, I would never put my hands on a woman. Not for anything.

But what she just said about Birdie, standing right there in front of me? She just lost anything she was hoping to get.

“Yeah, you’re fucking done.” With that I pressed a kiss on Birdie’s temple, pushed her to the side, so she wouldn’t get hurt, and then with one hand on the bar top, I vaulted over it, gripped the woman on the arm and snarled, “It’s time to go. If you ever step foot on this property again, I will be hiring a private detective and having both of our lawyers all over your ass like white on rice.”

And as I was talking, I was propelling her out of the bar, uncaring that she was trying to dig her heels in, and I was also uncaring whatever she had to say.

Her pleas for me to stop.

That I was hurting her.

Every word went in one ear and out the other.

With my hand still on her arm, I didn’t care if I left a bruise or not, not when this woman deserved so much more than a simple bruise, I got right in her face and said dangerously low, “If you ever come near Birdie again, I will make it my life’s mission to tear you apart. Limb from fucking limb. And bitch, that’s not a threat. It’s a motherfucking promise. Now get the fuck out of here before I go against everything I believe in and beat the ever-loving shit out of you.”

I released her and headed back into the bar, Frank was passing me then, and said low, “I’ll make sure she gets out of town.”

I nodded, “Appreciate it.”

And when I came back in, a round of applause hit the bar, but I only had eyes for my Birdie.

She looked at me, her chest rising and falling, and then… she crooked a finger at me.

Since I was hers. All fucking hers. I went to her and had to wonder why she was moving away from me.

But I followed.

And I followed her into my office, where she pulled out her own key, then unlocked the door.

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