Page 120 of Bossy Hero

If anything, I need her now more than ever.

As to her point... do I need to do some thinking? Abso-fucking-lutely. Mainly about how to take Lenkov down. And then what to do about Tomer and his fucking deceit.

Yeah, I’ll figure out what to do about Lettie eventually too. She’s not going anywhere. In fact, given she and Tomer reconciled yesterday afternoon, she’ll be moving in with him and hanging around Redleg while he’s working. Since she’s safe, she’s not at the top of my list. And if that makes me an asshole, then so be it.

A man can only handle so many things at once.

I didn’t get to this point by trying to be everything to everyone at once. While there are many burdens on my shoulders, my ability to handle them can only happen if I prioritize and delegate.

Apparently, Maddie isn’t gonna answer. Instead, she grabs her empty plate, places her coffee cup on it, and rises from the table. “Time to get going, yeah? Gonna be a busy day.”

Chapter20

There's always time for unpleasantries

Maddie

Two weeks later

As I’ve gotten older, some things have become nearly impossible to hold. For instance, my bladder. It’s just a sad fact of life. I’m in my mid-fifties and birthed three babies. Thus, a single sneeze might necessitate an outfit change and a trip to the car wash to shampoo my seats. It happens. Doing kegels only helps so much.

The other thing I find challenging to hold these days is my tongue.

Especially when I’ve gotten very little sleep over two weeks, thanks to a gunshot wound on the side I prefer to sleep on.

More than the recent chronic fatigue, though, perhaps I’m extra snippy this morning over the broken coffee maker.

However, the most probable reason I’m ready to blow my top is because I no longer have autonomy over my life.

Again.

Considering the recent events, I’m doing my darndest to give Alan grace. After all, he’s only smothering me because he loves me and wants to ensure my safety. Seeing me unresponsive on the concrete while bleeding from a gunshot fired up every overprotective instinct he has, of which he already had plenty.

Therefore, when it comes to my metaphorical suffocation, I’ll continue trying my best not to make waves. More than likely, it’s only temporary.

However.

When it comes to how others are being treated, Icannotfind it in myself to be as forgiving.

And if this man doesn’t pull his head out of his ass, I’ll do it for him. By force if necessary.

By the time Alan’s done leaving another unacceptable voicemail, I’m ready to snap. I’ve absolutely had it.

Parking myself at the edge of his living room, I cross my good arm at my chest and stare him down.

He faces me expectantly, keys in hand. “Are you ready to go? Where’s your purse?”

After a deep breath, I calmly grit out, “I have something to say first.”

He checks his watch. “Can’t we talk in the car?”

My right eyelid twitches, courtesy of my spiking blood pressure. “Alan Lancaster, you’re going to get your shit together this instant. Or so help me, I’ll put you over my fucking knee.”

Shocked at my outburst, he looks at me like I’ve got two heads. His eyes widen like saucers, and his jaw hangs so low I could walk into his mouth on stilts.

I never used to cuss. Travis didn’t like it. Neither did my father.

But this shit calls for an Alan-level curse fest.

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