She often got off work late, so she’d gone over in her head a dozen times the steps she’d take if something like this happened to her. But the moment it happened, all of her preparations had been forgotten. All she’d felt was fear. The silent tears fell faster. A strand of her hair brushed against her neck. Tatianna flinched. No. No, she was not okay.
And since her attacker had gotten away, she may never be okay again.
Bryceson
A few days later
He felt like he was about to lose his damn mind.
Fury burned through Bryce like a wildfire as he stormed out of the Cattaneo family mansion, Matthew’s words echoing in his head. For days, he’d had his guys searching for the person who’d attacked Tatianna, only to learn from Matthew that Tatianna’s coworker was the attacker.
Marco’s bitch ass had attacked Tatianna. The bastard had liked Tati ever since high school, and he loathed Bryceson. Bryce had thought he was just another admirer who’d wanted to steal Tati from him. He never thought the bitch would take it this far. The thought was unbearable. The need for revenge clawed at his insides, demanding release.
What kind of man would he be if he let that bitch off without beating his motherfucking ass and turning him over to the police. Since the attack, Tatianna hadn’t been herself. She didn’t want to leave her house. She didn’t want to go to work. She’d even put in for some time off. She was scared.
Because of Marco, the woman he loved was scared. She wouldn’t be able to release that fear until the person who’d hurt her was behind bars. Bryce was going to make sure that happened. Matthew’s connect found camera footage for Bryceson. It was from the little boutique down the street from where Tati worked.
The footage showed Marco parking down the street from the restaurant. He then got out of his car, pulling his hoodie on as he went. The bitch walked the short distance and waited in the back alley for Tati to exit the restaurant. He’d stalked her. He’d hurt her. He’d instilled fear in Bryce’s brave butterfly. For that, he had to pay.
“Fuck,” Bryce muttered under his breath, slamming the door of his car shut with a resounding bang after he climbed into his ride.
As he sped down the city streets, his jaw clenched, knuckles white on the steering wheel, he thought of how scared Tati looked each time he went to her place. Her mom was worried about her. But her bitch ass dad was glad she hadn’t gone to the police. He didn’t want her to be in the news for anything negative.
Bryce gripped the steering wheel tighter. This was all his fault. If he hadn’t been running late, he would’ve gotten to her before Marco had. He should’ve ignored Matthew’s sister when she’d stopped him outside of Matthew’s condo and asked him to help her find a ring she’d just lost in the grass.
She’d been crying over the ring, saying her grandmother had given it to her just before she passed away. He’d spent a few minutes helping her look, only to give up and tell her to ask Matthew to do it because he had to pick up Tati. He’d left her crying in front of Matt’s building. But he hadn’t cared.
He knew he’d needed to get to Tati. But in trying to be a gentleman, he’d put the woman he loved in danger.Never again.Every fiber of his being screamed at him to make Marco pay for what he had done. A twisted part of him also wanted to make Melinda, Matthew’s sister, pay. But the rational part of him knew it wasn’t her fault. Marco was the culprit. Marco was the one who deserved his wrath.
“I swear, I will make you regret ever laying a hand on her,” he seethed, eyes narrowed and focused on the road as he steeled himself for the coming confrontation.
The sun was setting, and darkness was creeping into the sky and into Bryce when he pulled up to Marco’s apartment building. Anger raged within him as he made his way up the stairs. Adrenaline coursed through his veins like a drug. Under that rage was a flicker of something else.
Something he didn’t like to explore. Something dark. A dark craving. A desire to do more than just beat the fuck out of Marco. A desire to do more than just spill a little blood. Ignoring that dark craving, Bryce took a deep breath when he reached Marco’s door. It was quiet out. Too quiet. Lifting his fist, he banged on the door.
“Marco! Open up!” Bryce barked, his voice hard and cold. When there was no response, he pounded on the door again. “Don’t make me kick this damn door in.”
A click sounded. The door swung open, revealing a disheveled and wide-eyed Marco. The man smelled of weed and liquor.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Marco roared.
“Shut the fuck up,” Bryce growled, stepping into the apartment and slamming the door behind him.
So, this was how Marco lived. The man was a sous chef. He drove a damn sports car, yet he lived in a cramped apartment with dingy walls and worn-out furniture. The room was cluttered as fuck. Books, empty beer bottles, and discarded clothes littered the floor.
The only source of light came from a flickering overhead bulb that cast eerie shadows on the peeling paint on the walls. This was the man who thought he deserved Tatianna.Get the fuck out of here. Bryce’s heart thundered in his chest as he confronted his woman’s attacker.
“You know why I’m here, Marco.”
Yeah, that bitch knew why he was there. Bryce saw it in his eyes, the flicker of guilt.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You attacked Tatianna. And now you’re going to pay.”
“Why would I attack her?”
“Save it,” Bryce spat, his anger boiling over. He lunged forward, grabbing Marco by the collar and slamming him against the wall. “You think you can hurt her and just walk away? Are you mad because she won’t fuck with you? Is that why you did it? You’re pathetic.”