Page 83 of Piece Of Me

“Well then,” Malcom sneered. “Let’s have at it.”

With Taz’s hand at her back, she headed for the kitchen. She needed something between her and Malcom. Some space to keep him away. She grabbed Hank from the living room and then stood beside Taz as they faced Malcom. He was clearly angry, and his dark eyes flashed as he looked at them.

“I’ve got nothing to say to you,” Malcom said, voice as dark as his eyes.

“That suits things fine. I came here to talk and you’re going to listen.”

“You’re interfering with something you have no right to.” Malcom’s face flushed.

“You’re wrong about that.”

“Am I?” Malcom scoffed. “I’m the father of Scarlett’s child and you’re nothing but a cowboy. One of the help I assume?”

Taz smiled then, his teeth white against his tanned skin, and when he spoke his voice was deadly quiet. “There’s a big difference between you and I.”

“You’re right about that. Breeding.” Malcom sounded like a petulant child, and Scarlett settled in to watch the show. Even Hank realized something was afoot and clung to her in silence.

“I think it’s more of a manner thing.” Taz winked at Scarlett. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

She nodded. “And then some.”

“I’m gonna cut to the bull. That’s cowboy speak for saying what’s on your mind if you don’t know.”

“Christ, man, say what it is you came to say and leave us.”

“But that’s the thing, Kingsley. You’re the one who’s leaving. You’re going to march that aristocratic butt out of Scarlett’s life and you’re not going to bother her again.”

Malcom straightened up at that and thrust out his chest. “I will not. I have rights and if Scarlett isn’t careful those rights will interfere with how she raises her son.”

Scarlett blinked at that. Her son.

“She had the child without so much as a word to me. She didn’t allow me to have any say in his birth. Courts in the UK don’t take kindly to foreigners absconding with our own.”

Taz moved forward until he was inches from Malcom. He had a good three inches on the Irishman and the kind of build that hard work brought, not running laps on the treadmill, or lifting weights. He was intimidating and for the first time Malcom looked nervous. A sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead, and he tugged at his hair, moving it off his face.

“How much?” Taz asked, his voice hard and aggressive.

“What do you?—”

“How much will it take to get you out of Scarlett’s life?”

“I can’t be bought,” Malcom sneered. “Not by the likes of you.”

“Can’t you?” Taz.

Malcom looked from Taz to Scarlett, but she had no idea what was going on and kept silent.

“I know some things”—Taz glanced her way, his eyes softening—“and I think it’s time Scarlett does as well.”

He moved away and Malcom visibly relaxed. Taz kissed the top of her head before he faced Malcom again.

Her ex was worried. She heard it in his voice. “This is complete and utter nonsense. Scarlett, we have the rest of the week to figure things out. To start off in the right way. I know I’ve bungled things, but you must give me a chance to explain.”

“Are you done talking? Because I’ve got some more things to say.” Taz smoothed Hank’s hair. “This little guy has a mole on his right side, at the top of his ribcage. I know this because I’ve fed and bathed this boy. I’ve changed his diaper. I know that he talks gibberish for about twenty minutes when he wakes up and I know that he falls asleep with a smile on his face because he’s happy and content and loved and cared for.”

Those damn tears were back but Scarlett made no effort to stop them as one slowly rolled down her check. Taz caressed it away and continued.

“I know that Scarlett giggles in her sleep. I know that when she looks at me her heart is in her eyes, and she doesn’t need to say the words that live there. I know them. Because I feel them.” He turned to Malcom, his voice flat and dangerous. “What that means is that she’s just as much mine as I am hers. You are nothing in her life. You’ll never have what I have. But then you don’t deserve it.”

---