Page 124 of Sacrifice
Will jams his hands in his pockets. It’s his nervous tick, the unconscious thing he does when he’s uncomfortable. I’ve seen it a million times. “Look, Crew . . .” Will blows out a breath before looking back at me. “Davidson showed up at the hospital today . . .”
“He didwhat?” I imagine him in the room with my girls, breathing the same air, his poison tainting the only pure thing I have. I can’t handle it.I’m going to fucking kill him.“He showed up to the hospital? Did he talk to them? Did he hurt them? Did he—”
“Calm down,” Sal says, his voice riding over mine. “Will talked to Julia and they’re fine. They’re on their way home, like he said.”
My head snaps to Will. “You swear to me they’re okay?”
He nods. “They’re okay. I called Jules and she said Davidson was there but she was fine. She didn’t know they were coming . . .”
“You know as well as I do that his impromptu visit wasn’t a fucking publicity stunt. There was more to it. There always is with that bastard,” I say, looking at Sal. “If he even breathed on her, I’m going to rip his heart out and feed it to him. There will be no fight in the cage because I’ll kill that motherfucker now.”
“You’re going to stick to the game plan, that’s what you’re gonna do,” Sal says, marching across the room. “You’re going to get your head straight and fucking remember what we’ve been training for. He’s fucking with you and you’re playing right into his hands by letting him get in your head.”
“He—”
“Do you want to win this fight or not?” he booms. “Do you want to win and save your niece’s life or do you want to have a pissing match with this chump? Huh? Answer me, damn it, because I can guarantee which way he’d rather have this go.”
I glare at him and he steps within inches of my face.
“Answer me!”
“I’m gonna fucking win!” I shout but Sal doesn’t flinch. “I’m gonna fucking win,” I say quieter this time. “But God help me . . .”
“God doesn’t help you win fights, Crew. That’s up to you.”
* * *
CREW
My foot isheavy on the accelerator. It feels like I’m barely moving, but I’m probably going way too fast . . . if I cared. And I don’t.
With every passing mile, I don’t feel any less like wanting to explode.
The idea of that asshole with Jules and Ever . . .
I pound my palm off the steering wheel.
Fuck!
This stunt isn’t just about me and him; this is abouthimbeing nearthem.
I’ve seen a lot of worthless pieces of shit in my day, but Hunter beats them all. He was a wrestling standout at Iowa but has never won a match playing fair in his life. He talks all kinds of trash, gets into ridiculous situations and uses his parents’ money and father’s position on Wall Street to get him out of every predicament he’s ever been in. He’s a Five Alarm FuckUp, one that should never have been allowed to get near my girls.
I have Sal calling around to see who let them in and to make sure it doesn’t happen again. Somebody’s head better roll, or I’ll cut it off.
“Fuck!” I shout, my voice sounding over the lyrics of Nine Inch Nails. I flip the radio off and steer the truck onto my road. My gut twists as my house comes into view, Jules’ car parked in the driveway. It looks completely normal and that pisses me off. I’ve just had the sanctity of my private life literally touched by the fucking devil and everything looks like the image of a perfect life from out here.
I park the truck beside her car and get out. Before I get to the door, it opens and Jules comes out. Her eyes are wide and I know she’s been crying. She runs to me and leaps into my arms, wrapping her arms around my neck.
She presses her face against my chest and I’m taken aback. I wrap her up in my arms and lean against the truck, feeling her body tremble.
I run my hands over her body, grasping, molding. I’m not sure what for, but it gives me some peace of mind that she’s okay.
“Are you all right?” I ask, kissing the top of her head.
“Yes. We’re all right.”
“What the fuck happened today?” I hear the anger in my voice, even though I don’t mean to sound mad. I don’t know what happened in there for sure and I don’t want to make assumptions. I know he was there and she didn’t call me.
