Page 9 of Centering Kaos

That old pre-hockey rage reared its ugly head. Once again, I felt like an enraged kid, ready to destroy walls, shred clothes, and bust heads. This time, a harmless prank wouldn’t be enough to sooth my beast.

I wanted Matt Parker’s blood.

Through my haze of fury, something nagged at the back of my mind. This was the proof she needed, which could only mean one thing. “She didn’t go to the cops.”

It wasn’t a question, but Naomi shook her head anyway.

“They made a deal.” Emily gathered up the photos and returned them to her file. “A good mother will always sacrifice herself for her child, and Tina loves her son. She gave Matt an ultimatum. She promised not to press charges as long as he let them move out without a fight and agreed to supervised visits with Dylan.”

“So, he beat the shit out of her and got away with it. That’s some serious bullshit.”

“She was smart,” Emily countered. “With no priors or witnesses, it’s her word against his. She would have to file charges within seventy-two hours of his arrest. He might have gotten a full fifteen days in jail, but I doubt it. She had no money of her own, no one to really help her.”

“She had limited plays available, and the game was rigged to let him win,” Naomi said. “Tina moved in with her sister, and as soon as her bruises were gone, that bastard went back on his word and tried to kidnap Dylan. That’s how she got our card. Lily and her dog were in the park that day. They attacked Matt and stopped him from getting away with the boy. Unfortunately, he knew just what to say to make it look like a misunderstanding between parents. The cops didn't even book him.”

“So, he still has no fuckin’ record,” I growled, amazed at how much the asshole had gotten away with.

“Exactly.” Emily nodded. “He laid low until last week when Tina told him she wanted a divorce. He wouldn’t even discuss it. The next day, he caught her in the parking garage outside of her workplace and left her that colorful scarf of bruises.”

Matthew Parker needed someone to rip his larynx out through his asshole, and I was just the man for the job. Bet the bastard would have a hard time talking his way out of charges then.

“Do we need to call in someone else?” Emily asked.

“What? No!” I couldn’t even believe she’d asked such a thing. I was in. I was so fucking in, I could already feel my hands wrapped around that little peckerhead’s throat, ready to give him a taste of his own medicine. My face felt hot, and my heart pounded against my chest. Never in my life had I wanted anything as badly as I wanted to fuck this motherfucker up, which—as I watched the growing concern on Emily's face—I realized might be the problem. “No. I’ve got this.”

“You sure?” Naomi asked. “Because steam is coming out your ears and your eyes are starting to glow. It’s cool that you care and want justice as bad as we do, but we can’t let you out on the street like this. You need to get your game face on.”

Emily nodded, jabbing me with a finger. “If you lose your temper and blow your cover, we’ll miss out on this opportunity. We have a plan. It’s a good one, and I will bring the wrath of God down on you if your temper screws it up. If you end up in jail and Matt walks free, you and I are gonna have a problem.”

“Maybe we overshared,” Naomi said to Emily, talking about me like I wasn’t even there and acting like she wasn’t just throwing down the coat rack and making death threats. “Next time, we should stick to the task we need performed and not share the why.”

Emily eyed me. “Yeah, but I wanted him to know what he’s dealing with. Matt’s manipulative. He’ll try to talk his way out of it. And when he can’t, he’ll come after Tina. She’ll need our protection. I have a feeling about this one, and my senses are telling me she’s in more trouble than she can imagine. Nobody ever believes their husband is capable of murdering them. Especially not a husband who looks like Matt.” She pointed at his picture. “He’s wearing a pocket protector, for crying out loud.”

Naomi frowned. “Maybe we should call in Bull.”

They wanted to replace me. I needed to get myself under control, because there was no way they were yanking me from this case. They didn’t need my fists or my fury. No, there were other ways to knock a motherfucker off his feet. I could do it their way. Matt needed a missile of karma up his ass, and when the smoke cleared, I wanted to be standing over his corpse, holding the launch codes. Determined to bottle my rage, I filled my lungs with air, held my breath while I counted to ten, and then blew out my anger. Feeling marginally better, I repeated the process. Both ladies watched in fascination as I felt the excess blood drain from my face. Unclenching my fists and rolling the tension out of my shoulders, I said, “Okay. I’m good now.”

“Neat trick,” Naomi said with a smile.

“Thanks. Kept me out of the sin bin a time or two.”

“The sin bin?” Emily asked.

“Hockey slang for the penalty box,” Naomi provided. “Our boy here played center, which meant he was needed on the ice making plays. He had to keep his temper in check, or his coach would kick his ass.”

She knew about me. Feeling played, I arched an eyebrow. “Didn’t know you were a fan.”

Her smile widened. “There are a lot of capable veterans in the Dead Presidents, but we make sure we get the right man for the job. Now that your inner hockey beast is contained, I think you got this, Kaos. Actually, I know you do.” She looked pointedly at the prospect patch on my cut. “This is your chance to prove yourself, and you won’t let us down.”

Her faith in me was humbling and welcome as she reminded me of what was at stake. One of my favorite things about the Dead Presidents was that everyone started at the bottom. They were unimpressed with the accomplishments of my past, requiring me to perform in the present. The ladies were giving me a shot to do just that, and Naomi was right. I wouldn’t fuck it up.

But this was about more than a patch on my cut.

This was about helping a terrified single mom and her wayward son get out from under the thumb of a narcissistic son-of-a-bitch. I’d keep my cool to help Tina and Dylan.

Rolling my shoulders again, I cracked my neck. “All right. What’s the plan to bring this shitstain down?”

Emily smiled and steepled her fingertips. “Well, it starts with pizza.”

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