Page 58 of Thornhill Road

Mustang

'Daddy, it smells likegrass again. Mommy says I can’t come out of her room until her friend leaves, but I’m hungry.'

His daughter’s call was like a track set on repeat in his head.

His blood had gone from cool to boiling in a matter of ten seconds.

He was so mad he could hardly see straight.

He was pulling into his garage in under three minutes—a new record.

He’d barely killed the engine on his Road King before he held out his hand and barked, “Off.”

He didn’t need to say it at all, his woman already in motion.

“In the truck.”

She nodded and was reaching for the passenger door as he got off his hog and stomped his way around to the driver’s side.

He was peeling out of his driveway without his seatbelt seconds later.

As he drove, Tess didn’t say a word. Didn’t ask a question. Didn’t even flinch.

Mustang added that to the list of reasons why he thought he might just ride with her forever.

The five minutes it usually took for him to get to Trix’s place took three in his rage. He came to a screeching halt in the parking lot, his truck filling two vacant spots, and him not the least bit concerned about it.

“Out,” he growled before he bolted from his seat.

It took Tess a second longer to meet him in front of his truck, but she kept pace with him when he took her hand and dragged her behind him to Trix’s second story unit, her heels clicking to the beat of her hurried steps.

When he was in front of the door he wanted, he pounded his fist loudly against it then immediately reached for the handle. It was locked, so he pounded again. He was two seconds away from striking it with his heel when he heard the deadbolt slide free before the door was opened.

“What the fuck?” Trix scoffed in greeting.

Mustang looked at Tess and demanded, “Stay right here.”

She nodded and he let go of her hand as he stepped toward Trix and caught hold of her chin. He gripped her hard as he searched her eyes, and she tried but failed to fight against him.

“Mustang, let me go! You’re such an asshole!”

She wasn’t high. At least not yet.

This did not calm him down.

He freed her chin and brushed past her as she cried, “What are you doing? And who is she? Who areyou?”

Mustang stopped dead in his tracks, twisted until he had line of sight to those gorgeous golden-brown eyes and said, “Not a fuckin’ word.”

She stared back at him, keeping those perfect lips closed, and he continued through the apartment.

The apartment that wreaked of weed.

Trix’s bedroom door was cracked. He pushed it open, spotted MK on the bed, her eyes glued to the doorway, and headed straight for her. She was ready, arms extended in anticipation. As he scooped her up and against his chest, he said, “We’re leavin’, baby. Let’s get some shoes on.”

They hit her room just as Trix started down the hallway.

“You can’t take her. It’s Saturday! You don’t get her until tomorrow,” she hollered.

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