I nearly stumble. Kensie had never given me her husband’s last name, only that she’d changed hers back to her maiden name after the divorce. The few times she mentioned Fred, I had never imagined she meant Fred Cunningham.
Iknowthat fucker. I’ve done work with him. He’s a second-rate fund manager, nowhere near on my level, but our paths have crossed over the years. He always struck me as a spineless, social-climbing asshole.
Now that I know he’s the one who hurt Kensie? The fucker is dead.
“Get your goddamn hands off of her,” I bark, grabbing his shoulder and roughly pushing him away. “You don’t ever fucking touch her again.”
“She’s my wife,” he snarls back. “You can mind your own damn business.”
“Ex-wife.” I get up in his face. I have an inch or two on him and I’m glad for it. Looking down on this piece of shit feels damn good.
“I don’t see how it’s any of your business,” he says, but he takes a step back, intimidated. Little bitch.
I don’t let him get far. I’m right back in his face, rage coursing through me. “She’smy business, do you understand? You think I don’t know what you did to her?”
He opens his mouth, probably to spew some bullshit I don’t want to hear, but then pauses, his gaze jumping around my face. I see it, the moment he recognizes me. He’s always been a little kiss-ass, and I can tell he’s measuring his desire to tell me offand his unwillingness to go up against such an important figure in the finance world.
Too fucking late, asshole,I think. Now that I know who he is, this guy is ruined. If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to make sure he’s left with nothing.
He never hurt me, not really. Left bruises a few times.
That’s what she told me about her pathetic excuse of an ex. As if leaving a bruise on a woman in anger is ever justified. Not to mention the years of emotional, financial, and mental abuse. I think of her falling apart in my arms when he sent her those fucking flowers.
He’s a dead man.
“I think this is all a misunderstanding,” he says, holding up his hands. “I don’t know what she told you, but Kensie has always been a bit of an exaggerator.” He actually chuckles. “You know how emotional women can be.”
I don’t think twice before throwing the punch. My fist connects with the side of his face with enough force to send him stumbling into a table behind him. Not good enough—I want to knock his ass to the floor.
“Grant!” Kensie cries behind me. I feel her soft hand on my arm. “You don’t have to do this!”
“Like hell I don’t,” I growl, managing to soften my hands enough to gently push her off. I make eye contact with Andres over her head and he nods, moving forward to place himself between her body and what’s about to go down.
I grab Fred by the collar, pulling him up. His face is red, eyes narrowed. “What’s the matter?” I growl. “I thought bullying was your thing?”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about!”
“I know a judge gave her a restraining order. I know her lawyer hired a P.I. who dug up enough shit about you that you had to give her a hell of a divorce settlement.” I tighten my grip,bringing his face closer. “I know you fucking treated her like dirt for years. And I know you left bruises on her skin and locked her in a damn bathroom for two fucking days!”
I dart a glance to the group of guys standing just behind him, looking shocked. I recognize one from the club, probably a member who brought business associates in to show off for the night. I notice not one of them has come to his defense. “Those guys over there know everything you did to your wife?”
“I didn’t do shit to that little bitch,” he snarls, temper breaking. “I gave her everything! She was ungrateful! A fucking frigid cunt. And now she’s here, whoring herself out to you?”
This time my punch lands square on his nose. He immediately starts gushing blood as he struggles against my hold.
“You fucking broke my nose!”
“I’m gonna break a hell of a lot more than that, you piece of shit.”
“Grant.” This time it isn’t Kensie’s soft voice drawing my attention away from the slime ball in my hands. It’s Anthony. He’s standing next to me, a firm hand on my shoulder. “He’s not worth it, man.”
“He deserves this,” I grunt, unable to release him. I want to punch him over and over again. Kensie is owed far more blood than this for what he put her through.
“He deserves a lot more than this,” Anthony says, voice dripping with disgust. “But he doesn’t need to get it tonight. Not here.”
I take a deep breath, knowing he’s right. Beating the shit out of this guy might feel good in the moment, but he deserves repercussions that are much more long lasting. The kind of thing I most definitely have the power to bring about.
I release his collar, shoving him for good measure so he lands on his ass. None of his associates help him up.
