Ralph glared at Justin, picked himself off the floor and then went down on one knee in front of Nakia. “I love you, baby. I’m sorry about what happened. I never wanted to hurt you like that. Please believe me.”
“I don’t care, Ralph. Just leave.”
“I came to see you in the hospital, but that asshole over there kept me out.”
“I don’t care! Leave!”
Ralph stood, his face blotchy with fury. “You just want to be free to fuck white boy over there.”
“Who says I haven’t fucked him already?” Nakia smiled sweetly, goading him.
Justin snickered.
“You bitch!”
“Which part of get the fuck out of my life don’t you get?”
“Perhaps you need some assistance leaving?” Justin asked softly. He would relish the opportunity to beat the crap out of Ralph again. As soon as Ralph had posted bail while Nakia was in the hospital, Justin had found him and beaten him until the other man had fallen unconscious. And he’d waited for Ralph to wake and had beaten the bastard again. Appearing as a fully masked phantom, he had wanted to hurt Nakia’s attacker, as he’d hurt her. Ralph had cried and screamed and, at one time, had even wet his pants. Justin had known where to hit the other man about the body without breaking skin but had left him swollen with a few distended joints, torn ligaments, and damaged cartilage. The bastard would probably never play ball again. He was still out on bail and would probably go to prison for assault, especially after violating the restraining order. Justin was going to make sure of it.
“I wanna see you make me leave. She’s my wife.” Ralph charged toward him.
Justin chuckled. He didn’t know who he had to thank for this opportunity, but suddenly he felt like it was Christmas morning all over again. Ralph outweighed him by about forty pounds. However, that didn’t stop him from bringing Ralph down with one kick to the chest. Justin smirked when Ralph got up almost immediately and charged him again. This time Justin delivered two quick jabs to Ralph’s face and then a roundhouse kick to the side of his head, sending him careening to the ground.
“Damn, Ralph, you haven’t landed a punch yet. No wonder you like hitting women when they’re not looking,” Nakia taunted. She stood leaning against the wall with her legs crossed at the ankles.
“When I’m done with him, I’ll deal with you,” Ralph growled. He glared at Justin, trying to appear intimidating.
“You should concentrate on one opponent at a time. You don’t look like you’re handling the one in front of you very well,” Nakia told him cheerfully.
“Bitch!” Ralph started toward her but then seemed to have caught himself, paused in mid-stride, and instead turned to Justin.
Justin waited for Ralph to make his move. Ralph charged him as though he were still a defensive lineman on his old NFL team. Without much effort Justin brought him down again and again. After the fourth time, Ralph was bleeding profusely, and he could no longer use his right arm.
Ralph started crying, huge ugly sobs. Soon snot drained from his nose.
Justin smirked.
“You were never very bright, Ralph.” Nakia shook her head as Ralph tried to attack Justin again.
Justin was still in the doorway, and his dark expensive suit looked impeccable. His white dress shirt was pristine, his tie perfectly aligned, and his hair neatly in place despite the repeated attacks from Ralph. In stark contrast, Ralph was crying, bleeding, and cursing threats at him. Justin didn’t utter a word. He knew that his silence would completely unnerve the other man. He watched as Ralph turned slightly gray when Justin took a deliberate step toward him. Tired of the game he had been playing with Ralph, Justin leveled a vicious kick to Ralph’s head.
Nakia gasped. “Is he dead?” Her eyes were round with fear.
Justin couldn’t tell if it was fear of him going to jail for killing another man or fear for her husband. “No, he’s not dead. But he’ll have a nice headache for a few days.” He fished his phone from his jacket and called her security team. They had a lot to answer for. How the hell did this asshole get in the apartment?
In less than five minutes, the men had removed Ralph’s unconscious figure from the apartment and, after explaining the security lapse, had slightly mollified Justin’s fury. He now turned his displeasure on Nakia.
Chapter Seven
“Why the hell did you invite him in here?” he gritted out as soon as the last man crossed the threshold of the apartment and closed the door behind them.
“I didn’t invite him in.” Her voice was dripping with bitterness. “My parents came for a visit, and they brought him along. They left as soon as I opened the door.”
Justin could never understand any parent not wanting to protect or support their child. It boggled his mind that a man like Ralph, who’d put his spouse, their daughter, in the hospital for weeks would still have their support. It made no sense. “Where did you get the gun?”
“You, a Texas man, asking me where I got a gun?”
“Yeah, where did you get it, and do you know how to use it?”
Nakia chuckled but didn’t answer the question. She expertly twirled the gun on one finger, switched on the safety, and placed it on a nearby shelf. “What’re you doing here, Jay? I thought we agreed to stay out of each other’s hair.”
Justin walked farther into the room. “I remember you saying something like that to stop yourself from jumping me.” He smirked.
“Ah, so you got jokes.” Nakia started moving toward the kitchen. “Just for that, I’m not giving you any. I’m giving it to my security team.”
All amusement left Justin as he followed her into the kitchen. He watched as she gathered several plates and started uncovering various pots and dishes she had on the stovetop, trying like hell to not let the dark thoughts swirling around in his mind simmer to the top. “What did you say?” He tried to tamp down the fury in his voice, but it was impossible to contain his volatile feelings.
She snickered as she started dishing up the contents on the pots onto the plates. “Dinner. I cooked for my parents, so I have a lot of food. I promised the guys they could try my Bahamian food.”
Justin breathed out slowly but didn’t dare let her see his reaction. “Do you make a habit of cooking for them?” he finally asked as she pressed one number on her phone, which he realized was a message to the two men guarding her. That action begged another question, but he was waiting for her to answer the first one.
“I hate cooking for one, and I hate eating out every night. So, it’s a win, win for all of us.” She walked out the kitchen with two heaped steaming plates and utensils wrapped in napkins just as one of the guards came in through the front door.
Justin clenched his teeth and jaw hard to not blast the guard, who looked up at him sheepishly as he took the plates and utensils from Nakia.
“Thanks, Carlos. That’s curry chicken, white rice, coleslaw, and some fried plantain. Hope y’all like it.”