Everything in my life had been that way. I had the education and experience to become a chef in a high profile restaurant, except that the business didn’t give me the time to work in a restaurant. My way of overcoming that was to buy my own and make them more successful than anything else in the area.
If there was anyone that could overcome the obstacles that stood in the way of Elena and I making a go of this thing, it was me.
The game was in the third inning and still no sign of the rat bastard, though saying that, I’d still have to stay the whole game, even if he’d showed up during the first inning. Leaving right after him would be too suspicious. Dad was adamant we remain cautious if we were to avoid being caught. If the home team was losing, I could sneak out early since half of the stadium would be leaving with me.
Brock called for dinner earlier in the evening and the only thing I could think about were the meals I’d shared with Elena over the last few weeks. There had only been three times, including tonight, where she’d been left to eat alone. I knew she didn’t have any friends, except the one from the diner. Dominic had done one hell of a job isolating her from everyone in her life.
“Ashton, what the hell is up with you?”
I peered over my shoulder at Brock to find him staring at me, brows drawn down.
“What do you mean?”
He pointed at my plate with his own fork. “Let’s start with the fact that you haven’t touched your steak, one of your favorites. Not to mention you haven’t paid one bit of attention to the game. You always said the best part of dealing with all of this shit was watching the game in privacy.” He moved his fork toward the glass in front of me. “You haven’t even noticed that your team is up by four runs.”
Glancing toward the scoreboard, I notice the score one to five. How did I miss that? The only number I’d been paying attention to was the inning, wanting the game to be over sooner rather than later. I pulled off my glasses and rubbed my eyes before putting them back in place. “I guess I’m distracted.”
“It’s the girl, isn’t it? I saw the way you looked at her that first night.”
I couldn’t lie to Brock. He’d been through enough shit with me. He deserved the truth. “Yeah, it’s her.”
“You know you’re walking into a huge pile of shit by getting involved with her, right?”
“Why do you say that?” I growled, feeling my blood pressure rise. Friend or not, he was not going to sit there and bash Elena. She’d been through enough.
“Look at yourself, ready to fight me over another man’s wife. Does that even make sense? And if you’re not careful you’re going to end up getting sloppy, which you can’t afford.”
I looked down and saw my hands, clenched into a fist. With an effort, I forced them to relax. “I’m just fucking her—not asking her to marry me.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“What do you know?” I snapped.
“Look, I’ve known you for years and I’ve never seen you this fucked up over a woman. You rarely ever pay them any attention, unless you want to sleep with them, and this time it’s all about a married woman. What happens when it’s time for her to go back to her piece of shit husband?”
I groaned and my head fell against the back of the chair. “I’m still hoping she’ll choose not to.”
“Can’t guarantee that. And do you really want to take on a crazy fucker like Tolley? Any bastard willing to trade his wife to save his own ass must have a few screws loose.”
My head snapped up. “I’ll bury the son of a bitch if I have to.”
“I doubt your father would be real thrilled with that.”
I laughed humorlessly. “I wouldn’t bet on that. Dad met her last week. Trust me, after hearing what she’s been through, I wouldn’t be surprised if he did it himself.”
“Another David?”
What my father had done to David was worse than death. Even Brock couldn’t stomach the stories we’d all heard, and seeing the man first hand made it very clear that most of the rumors were true.
David never walked again after my dad “visited” him. He was missing his left eye and right ear, and one leg had been shattered so badly they’d had to amputate it to save his life. He had third degree burns on his head, neck, chest, and back, but the torture hadn’t stopped there. Half of his fingers were broken, the other half cut off, and his tongue was missing. I didn’t want to think about what happened to his junk. A shiver ran down my spine thinking about it. How the hell my father had managed to get away with it was beyond me.
“Possibly.”
There was a knock on the door.
“Speaking of Tolley,” Brock said, getting up to let him in.
The slimy bastard sauntered into the room like he owned the place. He stepped in front of me, holding out a small envelope in his left hand. It was nowhere near big enough to hold the amount of money he owed me. All of my debtors knew they weren’t allowed to pay me with anything higher than a fifty.
Why do I get the feeling that the man thinks he has one over on me?
“I’m guessing by the size of this envelope that this isn’t even an eighth of what you owe me.” I handed the envelope over to Brock to start counting.
“It’s ten grand. I’ll have the rest by the end of our agreement. I should have thought to trade her sooner. I don’t have to use hotels anymore, but I do hate having to clean the apartment.” His eyes darted around the room. “Where is the lazy bitch, anyway? She better be doing what I told her to, even though she’s a lousy lay.”
I leapt from the chair and without a thought let my fist fly. It connected with his face and he stumbled back, bumping into one of the tables. With another punch, I knocked him to the floor, leaping onto his chest. My glasses flew off my face and slid across the room.
“Don’t you ever . . . talk about her . . . like that . . . again!”
This wasn’t the first time I’d had to make my point with my fist. Hell, it wasn’t even the tenth. This piece of shit was lucky it was only my fist I was using. I felt the cold steel of my glock shifting against my hip as I swung back again and again.
I didn’t hide behind my muscle. I might have used Brock from time to time, but that was when I had more pressing business, or when the person involved wasn’t worthy of me getting my hands dirty. I had a reputation—one I’d earned. You did not fuck with me, and Elena was mine, at least for the moment, and therefore this guy did not fuck with her either.
Blood splattered across my hands and arms, my shoulders ached and my knuckles were raw. I reached back to take another swing, not giving two shits about the damage I was doing to him, when strong arms wrapped around my chest, pulling me away.
“He’s out cold.”
My breaths came in pants. I looked down. One eye was already swollen shut, his hair, stained red, clung to his head, blood dripped from his nose, which now bent at an awkward angle.
“Get him out of here,” I snarled. “Call someone to stay with the fucker until he wakes up and make it very clear that if ever talks about Elena that way again, he’ll be praying for me to only knock him out.”
“Ashton—” Brock started.
“I don’t want to fucking hear it,” I yelled. “Get that motherfucker out of my sight.”
Brock didn’t argue further. He quietly scooped up Dominic and pulled him into one of the bathrooms at the back of the clubhouse. There were too many people milling around to get him out of the stadium, but I was too pissed to think rationally. I didn’t want to think about the why on that one.
“God-fucking-damn it.” I pulled out my other phone, the one that couldn’t be traced, knowing the only way to fix the situation was a call to Dad. He was either going to be pissed as hell or agree whole-heartedly.