Page 36 of Malice

“I can’t. I need to talk to her. I need to tell her I’m sorry.”

“Put it in a letter.” Malice wasn’t going to back down. Nor was he going to tell the fucker that he knew he was lying. That would only escalate the situation. Not what he was trying to do right now.

Fucker shook his head. “I can’t be sure she’ll get it. Or read it if she does. You’ll keep it from her.”

Malice shook his head. “I don’t do things like that. Bonnie makes her own decisions.”

Fucker made a sound of disbelief. “You’re full of shit. You just want her for yourself.” Now fucker was getting belligerent. His temper was getting the better of what little good sense he had, if any. “See, even the smile on your face says I’m right.”

“No. My smile is because I was right.”

“About what?” A crease formed between Fucker’s brows.

Obviously, this guy was no smarter than his actions had led Malice to believe.

“You are as dumb as you look.”

“I have a master’s degree —“

“Having a piece of paper that says you learned something doesn’t make you smart, not in a way that matters here and now,” Malice said.

“Of course it does, it shows that I am smart enough to do a job.”

“No, it shows that you spent years with your ass in a chair, aping back what your professors wanted to hear. It means nothing when it comes to how the world works. It means nothing when it comes to how to treat people. It means nothing when your mouth and your actions have gotten you in more shit than you know how to get out of.” Malice wanted to move in and use his fist to wipe the know-it-all smirk off the fucker’s face. Instead, he stayed where he was, and lifted a brow as he continued to watch the man who wasn’t supposed to be there. Wondering when, or if, the idiot would realize they weren’t the only two men out here.

“Let me guess,” Fucker’s gaze skimmed down Malice’s body then back up before he finished. “You never finished high school. You started working as a ranch hand and have gone from one ranch to another wherever the work took you. Or maybe you were a rodeo jock. Followed the circuit for a while then got on with a ranch. You think a man has to work with his hands to be a man.” The derision in his tone was clear.

Malice quirked one brow as he listened to the fucker’s rant. He couldn’t help the smirk that settled itself on his face as he thought about how this idiot needed a couple of serious life lessons. And damned if he wasn’t lucky enough to get to teach him one.

Not a single one of this dumbass’s assumptions were correct, not that Malice would bother telling him that. He knew the type and knew he wouldn’t listen if he tried. Instead he stared at the fucker until the other man spoke again.

“What? Did you forget how to talk? Did you realize that there is no argument from a neandertal like you?”

Malice slowly shook his head, his gaze never leaving the man in front of him. “I’m waiting for you to realize you’d be better off to shut up, but it looks like you’re not that smart.” He knew enough about this idiot from everything he’d said so far today to know that would sting his ego. “I suggest you get back in your little car, turn around and leave. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.”

“I’m not leaving. Not until I see Bonnie. I’m going to take her home with me where she belongs.”

“She doesn’t want to go home with you. She didn’t even live with you before. I have no doubt she has no desire to live with you now.”

“You’re holding her hostage out here. I’ll go to the police and file a report.”

“You go right ahead. I’m sure they’d like to talk to you.” Malice was smiling now, but it wasn’t his happy, pleasant smile, it was the one that half the men in his old unit had told him was frightening. A couple had even called it terrifying. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the way it made him look or because they knew it meant he was through playing with whoever was on the receiving end of it. “Why don’t you hurry off to go tell them I’m holding her against her will? Send them out to talk to her. Let’s see what she tells them.”

Malice had no doubt it was an empty threat. The last thing this idiot wanted was to talk to the police, especially since Bonnie had already been to them about all the shit this fucker had done to her already.

Deciding this idiot wasn’t going to do anything he’d need his pistol for, and if he did, then his brothers had his back, Malice gave in to the urge to fold his arms across his chest. He stared at the trespassing idiot for a long moment, waiting for him to make a move, any move, either to leave or press forward.

“I’m not leaving until I see Bonnie,” the idiot changed tactics.

“Then we’re at an impasse. You’re not seeing her. I don’t care if I have to stand between you and her all night or for the next year. She doesn’t want to see you.” Malice kept his voice even and calm. This wasn’t up for debate. He’d made sure she was safe inside for a reason. And even if something should happen to him, which he doubted, then his brothers would make sure she stayed safe. There was no doubt they’d stand between this abusive fuckwad and his woman.

Where the hell had that thought come from? His woman? When had she become that?

“I’m not going anywhere.”

This wasn’t the time. He pushed thoughts of Bonnie and their status from his mind as he focused on the problem standing in front of him. This was what needed his attention right now. The rest could wait.

“Look, you’ve got two choices,” Malice said, doing his best to keep his tone reasonable. “We can stand here all night. Or you can leave.” He let his gaze flick to the car for a split second then back to the idiot in front of him. “I would suggest the latter. Furthermore, I suggest you go home, forget about Bonnie, and move on with your life. She wants nothing to do with you.”

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