Page 21 of Love & Vendettas
“I don’t give a shit about that car.” My outward appearance is calm, but I’m burning inside. I see him easing closer to the knife block, and I’m not stupid. I pounce on him with the speed and agility of a cheetah. Kenny falls to the ground, and I place my foot on his chest. “You want to beat on women?”
“She destroyed my car.”
“And I’m about to destroy your ass.”
I remove my foot from his chest and give a direct order. “Stand up, bitch. Fight me the way that you were fighting Riley.”
I don’t want him on the ground, and I don’t want him at an unfair advantage as it relates to his physical position. As for the rest, all bets are off.
Kenny swings at me numerous times, and I dodge his punches until he finally catches me in the ribs a couple of times,but only because I’ve turned sideways, giving him my shoulder. I let him get a few more hits off so that he can feel as if he stands a chance.
Riley’s face flashes in my mind again. We’re supposed to protect our women and be their warriors. The moment that we feel as men that we can’t do that, we need to exit their lives, not take advantage of our strength over theirs.
If the woman starts disrespecting us and we feel we can’t take it, it’s time to walk out of the door, not beat her ass.
I don’t know how that girl made it to Bayleigh’s shop the way that she did with one eye closed. Fury rushes through my body, much like the blood that flows freely through my veins. I don’t want to play with Kenny’s ass anymore. It’s time to do what I’m going to do.
The moment that I lift my hands and he sees the brass knuckles, he starts shouting for help. That doesn’t stop me from punching him in his ribs, taking several shots that have him doubling over, and then pummeling his face, carefully avoiding his temples. I don’t want to kill him.
I have no problem killing a man, but Kenny needs to suffer the same way that he’s made Riley suffer and countless other women in the past.
I hear the crunching of bone as I swing and hit his cheek. I swing again and hit him in his nose and revel in the satisfying spurt of blood that gushes from there. His hands go up in a defensive posture but drop the moment that I hit him in the gut.
Taking advantage of his open face, I slam my fists into his eyes, leaving deep lacerations. I know the only thing that will repair the damage is cosmetic surgery. I don’t stop because when I’m done, this muthafucka won’t be recognizable.
When Kenny falls to the ground, I’m straddling him and still hitting him. I hear something behind me, but it doesn’tpenetrate the fog in my brain until I feel hands on me, pulling at me.
“Zaire!” Kim shouts.
“Z-dog! C’mon. If you want, I can finish him off,” Janel coaxes.
I stop beating him as my chest heaves up and down.
“Come on, Z,” Janel demands, reaching down for my bloodied hand.
I jump up without assistance and stare down at him. I spit on him. “Fuck him. Get someone in here to clean this place up. I need it swept, and I need him to be taken to the Hovel.”
The Hovel is a shabby house in the woods where I take our enemies to either finish them off if needed, extract information, or, in Kenny’s case, for a time-out. I have no plans on killing him, but his ass ain’t going to the hospital or the cops either.
“All right,” Kim replies, instantly hopping on her phone to access the secure site we use for communicating with each other.
Aris built an app a few years back that is undetectable and that no one has access to except for our team. It allows us to communicate securely with each other, bypassing internet options and navigating satellite access instead. We can speak, text, take and send photos and videos, and navigate via the app.
“Was this the business you ran out of the meeting to handle?”
“Yeah. I called Parker to have him send you over, but I didn’t expect you this soon. How’d you get here so fast?”
“As soon as you left, Parker told Kim and me to get ready because you might need us. We were pulling out of the garage, just getting ready to cruise the streets, when Kim received a text from you with this address telling us to meet you here. Who’s this scumbag?” Janel asks.
“Bayleigh’s brother-in-law.”
“I’m guessing he’s not a family favorite,” Janel quips, looking down at where Kenny is lying unconscious on the floor.
“Is he alive?” She asks, kneeling beside him. Before I can say that I don’t give a shit, she answers herself. “Yep. He’s still alive.”
“I’m about to get the fuck up out of here. I’m heading to the house. You got this?”
“You know I do. I’ll hold it down and oversee the crew when they arrive.”
