I shoved Conor so hard that his back hit the pool table with a loud thud. The other Allbrooks reacted and rushed at us, but all I could see was Conor. His bravado was gone now—I could see it from the way his eyes darted left and right—but that didn’t mean I was going to let him off easy.
Someone’s fist connected with the side of my face, and I turned just in time to see Todd take on the Allbrook guy that’d punched me. My attention went back to Conor who suddenly leapt out at me and threw a couple of punches at me.
Only one punch connected with the side of my nose before I grabbed his fist, twisted it, and then punched him three times in the gut. Conor immediately doubled over, and I hit him in the face with my knee. My knee connected with his face and blood spurted everywhere.
Conor stumbled back, yelling out as he covered his face with both hands, trying to stop the blood from flowing. But it wouldn’t help. I’d gotten in a good hit.
My boys had easily overpowered the other three guys who were now sporting swollen faces. Todd had the guy who’d hit me in a headlock, and pushed him hard against the pool table before releasing him.
“Let’s call this a friendly warning,” I said, wiping a small trickle of blood from the side of my mouth. “Next time we won’t go so easy on you. Let’s get one thing clear; you touch her, you so much as look at her the wrong way, and I will destroy you. Tell that to Troy and the rest of your Allbrook pussies.”
From the way Conor and the other guys stared at us in silence, I was pretty sure my message had been received loud and clear.
I knew Estella would be at the house this afternoon. I’d told Three to pick her up and take her there for Dylan’s lesson. What had actually slipped my mind was the fact that I’d been punched in the face and probably looked like shit.
All I’d wanted to do was go home to Estella. I wanted to eat one of her meals and watch her dance and bring her warmth into my home.
I hadn’t expected Three and Estella to be waiting out on the porch with me as I rode up with Goat. As soon as I’d removed my helmet and gotten off the bike, Estella hurried down the steps and ran to me.
"What happened to your face?" She let out a gasp and clamped a hand over her mouth.
Even though I’d done this for her, I couldn’t look her in the eye because I knew she would hate me for it. Instead, I shook my head to discourage her from asking any questions.
I reached out for her. "Hold me, Stelle, just hold me. Hold me like it's our last day together, and tomorrow might not be."
Estella didn’t resist at first—she stepped into my arms and let me rest my head on her shoulder. She even ran a hand through my hair which made me grasp her by the waist a little tighter. But it didn’t last long, because just as quickly as she’d held me, she pushed me away.
Her eyes were fierce, the amber in them dancing like the glows cast from candlelight. It kind of scared me a little the way she was staring me down.
“What happened to you, Vincent?” she asked again—her tone was firmer this time and I knew she wasn’t messing around.
Hesitating, I ran my fingers over the skin of her hand before grasping it in mine. “It doesn’t matter, Stelle. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Instead of meeting her gaze, I focused on Three who had approached us and was now standing just behind Estella. For some reason, he didn’t look as happy as he should to see me.
“Well, I do.” Estella’s words were commanding, but I heard the slight quiver in her tone, as though she was afraid to know the truth. “I need to know that you haven’t done anything bad; that no one is hurt.”
“Well, that depends on your definition of hurt.”
“Vincent, this isn’t funny. I’m being serious; did you hurt someone?”
“He deserved it,” I say, pointedly looking away from her. “He had no right to put his hands on you.”
“Conor did this to you?” Her eyes searched mine, large and concerned.
“Yeah, but you should see what I did to him.”
From behind me, Goat let out a gruff “hmm” of approval.
Tears were forming in Estella’s eyes, and I couldn’t hide the wall of emotion that hit me at seeing her reaction.
“Vincent, this needs to stop. If you love and care about Dylan the way you say you do, you need to stop doing this. You can’t keep putting him in danger.” Her hand tightened around mine.
“I’m not putting him in danger.” My voice came out like a low growl. “I’m protecting him. I’m doing the best I can for him. I’m making sure I win these fights so he can go to a good school and have a future.”
“Don’t you understand? It’s not about sending him to private school or college. It’s about teaching him to be the best that he can be. And that starts with you.” She jabbed the center of my chest with a finger. “You need to set the example for him to become a better person. He’s had nothing but disappointment in his life. Don’t do this to him.”
I wanted to say that she was wrong; that I was setting a good example for him, but a part of me was telling me that Estella was right. Everything she was saying was making a scary amount of sense.
“I know you’re better than this. Don’t let your circumstances dictate the kind of person you turn out to be. You can make your own choices, Vincent. You can walk away from this.” There was desperation in her eyes as she spoke.
Each word she said lashed at me like a whip, leaving a mark, leaving an imprint. No one had ever gotten through to me the way Estella had. Ever.
Feeling winded, I pulled my hands away from her and turned to Goat, feeling light headed. “Take her home. Now.”
I couldn’t think straight. Why did Estella make me question every decision I made in my life? Why did I let her get to me?
Estella let out a cry of protest, but I ignored her and headed towards the creek, far away from Estella and the truth of her words.
Chapter Twenty-One
Estella
The buzzing in my ears refused to fade.
My stomach churned as I tried to piece together what had just happened. I hated it when Vincent and I got like this. I missed the sweet moments we had shared together.
I’d never been so worried about Vincent before. It honestly scared me to see his face swollen and bruised like that. From what I understood, he had beaten up Conor for threatening me. That act alone confused me.
Why would he beat someone up for me? He’d told me I meant nothing to him. He’d acted cold and indifferent towards me. His behavior made no sense at all. His reckless behavior was bad for Dylan, but it was also bad for him. I knew he had the ability to leave that life behind, but maybe it was too late for him.
“He’s not a bad guy.”
Goat’s voice broke into my thoughts, startling me. “I’m sorry?”
We’d just pulled up outside my house and I’d been too distracted by my thoughts to get off the bike, and Goat had finally decided to say something about it. I guess it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was troubling me.
“Vincent,” Goat repeated as I climbed of the bike. “He’s not a bad guy. He’s been through a lot of shit and he doesn’t know how to deal with things in any other way. You gotta understand that about him if you’re gonna be around him.”
I stared at Goat in surprise, letting his words slowly sink in. I’d never expected this big, hulk-like, tatted up guy to be so insightful.
“I do understand, but I wish he could learn to handle things differently. He goes on about wanting a better life for Dylan but I don’t think he realizes the effect his own actions have on the way Dylan is raised.”
“Give it time. People can change.”