“Sit down,” she hissed, pushing at my chest. “I’ll deal with it myself. And trust me, I won’t be asking for the school’s help. Those kids won’t dare so much as even glance in her direction by the time I’m done with them. Besides, you have other things to be dealing with.”
“What now?” I sighed. It was never ending lately. Between Rachel being arrested, handing Bambi over to the police, the drug crime, knife crime, and guns found in my territory, and now Bee… I was losing the fucking plot.
“Vicky came by today.”
“She did?” I said, raising my head sharply to gauge Rachel’s reaction.
“Mhmm,” she hummed, sitting down at the vanity table and began brushing her hair.
“And?”
“She came bearing good news. She said—”
“She never has good fucking news.”
“You were the one shagging her,” she shrugged. “Solid choice in a bedmate, by the way. Ten out of ten for that one. The chief of police’s daughter? What a score!” she mockingly gave me a thumbs up through the mirror.
“What was the news?”
“It seems like you’re going to be a daddy. Again.”
“Like fuck!” I snapped, getting to my feet again.
“Why do you seem so shocked? Do you need a biology lesson? Let me ask, have you ever heard the song ‘Reproduction’? This is what happens when a boy and girl don’t know how to play it safe.”
“That’s it? That’s your entire reaction? Quoting Grease songs to me?”
She paused, brushing her hair, and locked eyes with me. “Grease 2, actually. I’m surprised you knew it.”
“It was one of Laura’s favourites.”
“I see,” she said, beginning to brush her hair again.
Nice going, Dante. Do you want to throw any more of your ex’s names her way?
“I’ll deal with Vicky,” I promised.
“I’m sure you’ll throw all sorts of nasty words her way. But the reality is, in nine months or less, we’re going to have another baby to deal with. I suggest you start getting one of those manipulative dossiers made on her, too, minus the blackmailing contract. If you think I’m putting my kids in the same world as her mess, you’re off your head. Sort it, or I will. Because I assure you, I’ll go back to prison and sing Henry the fucking Eighth for the rest of my life before I sit across a dinner table with her playing happy families.”
Chapter 49
Rachel
I was up bright and early the next morning, ready to take Bee to school. I left Axel with his father, and together we were at the gates a whole half an hour before school started, waiting for the parents and other children to arrive.
Each time someone turned up, I would ask Bee if they were the children involved, growing more frustrated every time she shook her head.
And then, just when I was beginning to lose hope, she pulled on my sleeve and pointed to the side.
“Which one?” I asked, but she simply pointed again, her words having left her once more. That only heightened my fury.
“All of them?” I ground out.
She nodded.
“Of fucking course,” I hissed. “Come on.”
I seized her hand and together we walked in the direction of the group of mothers she had pointed out. There were six of them and eight children. Because of course there were. Bullies rarely worked alone, and there was an entire gang of nastychildren with equally nasty parents. I recognised the type. My own mother was one of them.
