Page 79 of Strike Zone

“No thinking required. Fuck, yeah!” I drop her hand, pulling her into my arms and twirling her in the middle of the street.

“Really, you’d be okay with it?”

“Are you kidding me? Okay isn’t the word. Over-the-fucking-moon is more like it. I haven’t mentioned it because I want you to be comfortable throughout this whole process. I’ll tell anyone and everyone who’ll listen.”

Her smile is bright, shining like the sun as I bask in its warm glow. We walk the rest of the way in our blissed-out bubble, all goofy grins and smartass conversation. It’s not until I hold open the door to the restaurant for her that our bubble is well and truly burst.

“Anthony?” I follow her gaze to the weasel standing in the doorway, staring at her belly with disgust.

“You’re pregnant? Is it mine?” Diana’s face drains of color, her sunny demeanor of only moments ago has vanished.

Anthony—the douchebag from Anders’ wedding. The married douchebag. Now, he has the audacity to look at her stomach with twisted distaste and ask if the life growing inside her is his. I step in front of Diana, reaching out my hand, trying to curb my rage.

“I’m Lincoln Nash. And who the fuck are you, you presumptuous prick?”

“None of your business.” He brushes past me and grabs Diana’s arm, pulling her aside. “What the hell are you doing here? Did you come to ambush me with this?” He gestures to her stomach.

I wrap my hand around his wrist, twisting at just the right angle for maximum pain, forcing him to relinquish his hold on her. “I strongly suggest you don’t lay a fucking finger on her.”

What an arrogant son of a bitch.

“This is none of your business, so why don’t you get out of my way?” Diana is timid behind me, and so many pieces fall into place. Her reticence to open up with me, to trust me with her heart, and the walls she’s built around herself because of this scumbag.

I’d like to see him try to move me out of his way. I’ve got seven inches and fifty pounds of muscle on him. I’m also fucking pissed because he just had his hands on the woman I’m in love with and the mother of my child.

“No can do, dickweed. Diana became my business the day I met her, and you gave up the right to touch her the second she found out what a two-faced, cheating piece of shit you really are. So, unless you want me to have a nice little chat with your wife and tell her about your late-night ‘meetings,’ I suggest you shut the fuck up and listen to whatever Diana may want to say to your pathetic ass. Then, and only then, can you leave with your limp dick hanging between your legs. Do you understand?”

He looks past me to Diana. “Is this guy for real? There’s nothing pathetic about my dick, but you already know that, Dee. Maybe you should’ve been more selective about who you spread your legs for.”

Rage takes root in my chest, spreading like fire, licking through my body until I’m consumed by it. My blood, replaced by molten lava, pumps hard through my veins. I turn to Diana. “Say the fucking word. Please.”

“Go for it.” It’s all the encouragement I need.

Before he knows what hit him, my fist connects with his face—one calculated punch that sends him stumbling onto the sidewalk. “What the hell?”

“Consider that a warning shot. If you ever disrespect her like that again, I will fucking end you.”

I step over him and gesture to Diana as I hold the door of the restaurant open for her. “After you, beautiful.”

“Thanks, Linc, but do you mind giving me a few minutes to talk to Anthony?” Her voice is small, nothing like the confident woman I know and love.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I need to do this for me and for us. I have to let it go.”

“I’ll be at the bar. I can see Anders over there waiting for our table. If he so much as looks at you the wrong way, I’ll knock his fucking teeth out.”

“And I’ll let you, baby.” She locks her lips to mine, and I pour every ounce of strength I have into this one kiss, praying she’ll find the closure she so desperately needs.

I stare down at Captain Fud Flaps. “You heard the woman. She wants to talk to you, so get moving and remember to play nice. If you don’t, I’ll come find you, or better still, I’ll make good on finding your wife. You think you’re the only one in your marriage with a roving eye? I’m known for turning happily married women into screaming fangirls. I’m sure she’d enjoy an orgasm in a bathroom stall. Tit for tat, Tony boy. Don’t make me slum it with your wife to prove a point. I’ll wait until after to tell her what a cheating sack of shit you are.” I’d never look twice at his wife, but I know the threat of sleeping with her enrages him. I would be taking something of his. I hate that he knows Diana intimately, and revel in making him feel just a fraction of my anger.

It amuses me to see his seething rage building under the surface as his fists ball at his sides, but Limp Dick Harry knows he couldn’t take me in a fight.

He picks himself up, dusts himself off, and makes a piss-poor attempt at a threat. “I could ruin your career with a few phone calls. I have friends in high places.”

“So do I, Tony, but I don’t need other people to fight for me. Let’s not start a battle of wits. You came unarmed. And just for the record, that baby in her fucking glorious stomach isn’t yours. It’s mine. She’s mine. And I always protect what’s mine. Now, go and listen to Diana, then you can get the fuck out of my sight.”

He’s about to open his mouth with another snide remark but thinks better of it when he meets my steely glare. I watch every move he makes as he follows Diana to a discreet table in the corner. He’s looking around, checking no one has clocked him with a woman other than his wife. I fucking hate him. It takes every ounce of self-restraint I have to walk over to the bar and a puzzled-looking best friend.

---