“What the fuck, Diana?”
She refused to speak.
A faint odor came from his bedroom, but he didn’t have time for that. He wanted to jerk her neck and crack her head against the wall, but thought better of it.
In his hesitancy, she moved her knee again, but he kicked that leg, making her yelp. He stepped close enough she wouldn’t be able to knee him in the balls.
“Tell me what the fuck is goin’ on, bitch,” he yelled.
Her arms came up to shove against his hold, but he held firm.
“Not gonna ask you again, Di. What the fuck is this shit?”
“You fucked me over,” she muttered.
Har narrowed his eyes. “How?”
She still wouldn’t look him in the eye.
He sighed. “Start talking, because fuckin’ with me is not a good idea.”
“I’m pregnant,” she snarled.
He wanted to laugh but managed to scoff instead. “Got news for you, blondie, I used a condom the one time I was with you. So, if you’re pregnant, it’s not mine. Don’t say the condom broke, because I know better.”
“But, I’m pregnant,” she yelled.
Har tilted his head a touch. “Really? Is that why you threw a brick through my bedroom window on Friday? So, I’d turn that room into a fuckin’ nursery?”
Her expression weakened, but she stayed the course. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He shook his head, chuckling. “Hard to believe, since Layla snitched on you last night.”
She gasped. “She did not. She wouldn’t!”
Har smiled. “People do a lot of things when their family’s threatened, Diana. And Layla’s proven herself to be less than upstanding.”
While putting more force against her neck, with his free hand he pulled his phone from his back pocket and unlocked the screen. Then he said the words necessary to engage the voice-activated controls on his phone.
It beeped in recognition of his voice. “Call Brute,” he ordered.
A moment later, Brute came over the speaker, “Yo, man! You just left.”
“Get Roman, Cynic if he’s around, and any other brothers you can round up. Leave the prospects until I know how much damage there is. I got an intruder and from the smell of things, she’s dumped something in my house.”
“Jesus Christ, are you serious? What’s up with your crib lately?”
He shook his head. “Get some brothers here, man, stat.”
Diana made a last-ditch effort to knee him in the groin, but he pushed up against her brutally.
“Not fuckin’ happening. Knock that shit off.”
Her eyes narrowed and he heard her drawing up phlegm. He avoided it as it flew from her mouth. Using his grip on her neck, he bashed her head against the wall. She whimpered.
“Do that again, bitch, and I’ll knock you out with my bare fists.”
“Like to see you try, asshole,” she hissed.
He hated hitting women, but with two attacks on his house, he would never let her go free from this. Only real problem was Stephanie’s imminent arrival. She hadn’t liked seeing Brute manhandle Layla the way he did, she’d hate seeing Diana’s limp form because of his fists.
Things would go faster if he followed his instincts. Keeping his expression neutral, Diana never saw his right hook coming to knock her unconscious.
As soon as her ass hit the floor, he knew what caused the stench he smelled. He pressed the button on his phone to activate it.
In a moment Brute answered. “Har! I got as many men as I could, we’re about to mount up.”
“Great. Send them to me. You need to hit the casino and find Stephanie. Tell her to go to the clubhouse. There’s urine and something else in my house. Not a chance in hell I’m staying here tonight, and neither will she.”
The man who was more of a brother to him than his own flesh and blood sighed. “You got it, man. Want me to drop by after I deliver her message?”
“Bet your ass. And if you can get a steam cleaner from a grocery store before you come by, that’d be even better.”
He heard Brute groan before he disconnected.
A small smile played on his lips while he moved into his bedroom, but not for long. The sight of his bed slashed to smithereens rekindled his rage. The stench of piss grew stronger and with it his rage grew again. He rounded his side of the bed to see a stain two feet in diameter on his carpet. Where she found that much urine, he would never know. Then he noticed the trail of what he thought was dirt, but it led to a sack of cow manure which had been dumped near the window.
“That fuckin’ bitch,” he yelled.
He yearned to punch her again, but he tamped it down before leaving his bedroom.
He thought Stephanie’s futon might be where the two of them slept after his bedroom was cleaned. That thought died the moment he opened the door to her old room. The futon sat unfolded, but the mattress had been slashed, deep and savage. Both pillows were ripped to shreds. Stuffing sat in heaps on the center of the bed and was scattered along the floor.
He sighed, but before he could turn on his heel, the faint scent was stronger and drew him up short. Leaning forward, he sniffed deeply, and wished he hadn’t. The acrid scent of urine hit him and he didn’t yearn to hit her again.
He wanted to kill her, which was a first.
That wasn’t to say he hadn’t taken a life, because he had, but it was to say it was the first time he wanted to kill someone. Cold blood or not, he wouldn’t care. This shit was uncalled for on multiple levels.
Luckily for Diana, a knock at the door kept him from deliberating the many ways he could kill her.
Hearing motorcycle engines, he opened the door without checking the peephole. He got a vicious surprise.
Stephanie
I shoved a pile of chips toward the winner,
