The Wild Wolf Pup (Zoe's Rescue Zoo #9)(38)

“And this little guy is Eric,” I introduce. “Eric, say hi to grandma and grandpa.”

Riggs’ dad coughs or maybe he was choking. I couldn’t be sure but his mother looked as if she was having a stroke. Her whole face turned red like a tomato, and the drop out nurse within surfaced, knowing that was a sure sign of high blood pressure.

“Mr. Montgomery, can I get you a glass of water?”

The man continues to hack up a lung, and I extend my son into his grandmother’s arms.

“Hold him a second while I get him a glass of water,” I insist, placing Eric into her arms and watch as she holds him at arm’s length. “He doesn’t bite,” I add before taking off for the kitchen.

Well, except for that one time when he bit my leg and drew blood. I grab the first cup I see, a Mickey Mouse sippy cup and fill it with water. I didn’t bother screwing on the cap with the crazy straw, something tells me these people are the type who use the fancy crystal my mother only breaks out on holidays.

At that moment, Riggs comes barreling through the front door as I turn around.

“Kitten, I’m home!” He calls, kicking the door closed as he continues to look at something on his phone. “And I’m fucking horny as—” I cringe as the words fly from his mouth and thrust the cup toward Mr. Montgomery, spilling it all over the front of his suit.

“What the ever-living fuck is this?” Riggs stammers.

“Riggs! Language,” I scold, eying our son.

Mrs. Montgomery gasps as she peers over Eric’s shoulder and looks at her son for what I assume is the first time in years.

“What the hell did you do to yourself?” She shrieks.

Riggs pulls his sunglasses off and closes the distance between him and his mother, taking Eric from her before turning toward me.

“Are you off your rocker? Why did you let them in here?”

“You’re covered in tattoos!” His mother declares.

“They’re your parents what was I supposed to do? Slam the door in their face?”

“Yes, absolutely!” He hisses, shifting Eric into his other arm. “Are you okay? They didn’t try to sell you to the highest bidder did they?” He asks our son, examining him thoroughly before looking back and forth between his mother and father.

“Robert,” Mr. Montgomery starts, clearing his throat as he wrings out his suit jacket.

“Riggs, my name is Riggs,” he corrects, gritting his teeth.

“Fine, fine,” the father says, holding up his hands in defeat. “Lenore, stop gawking at his tattoos for heaven’s sake, you are only making matters worse.”

“It gets worse than a Satan tattooed on his arm?” She asks outraged. “Is that why you have an alias, are you part of some devil worshipping cult?”

Riggs turns to me. “I’m sorry, Kitten, but I can’t duck my way out of this one. No, this one deserves a good old fashioned fuck,” he grunts, whipping around to face his mother. “Are you fucking shitting me, lady?”

“Robert, Riggs, whatever the hell you’re calling yourself these days, we didn’t come here to cause any trouble,” Mr. Montgomery explains.

Riggs raises his eyebrows as he stares at his father incredulously before narrowing his eyes and pointing an accusing finger at his father, then his mother, the finger moving back and forth between both parents causing me to become dizzy as I try to follow it.

“Wait a minute,” Riggs says. “Wait just one damn minute. What the hell are you two doing together in the first place?” He turns to his mother. “Shouldn’t you be chasing after, what is it you're up to husband number five?” He asks before diverting his eyes to his father. “And you, how come you’re not off striking oil somewhere in the Gulf or wherever it is you dig holes.”

“Fernando and I didn’t work out and your father doesn’t dig holes. If you paid any kind of mind to his business, maybe you wouldn’t be living like this,” She says, spreading her arms wide as she gestures to our apartment.

Well now, that was just mean. Sure, the apartment looked like it had been ransacked by a pack of ninjas but we had a rambunctious toddler running the show. Didn’t she remember what it was like when Riggs was a baby?

“It’s really not as bad as it looks,” I argue.

“Don’t do that, shit, Lauren,” Riggs interrupts, pinning me with a glare, shaking his head. My eyes widen at the use of my name and not the nickname he was so fond of.

The Tiger meant business.

“We don’t owe these people shit, least of all an explanation as to how we live,” he chastises before turning his glare onto his parents. “Now, you don’t get to show up on my doorstep and ridicule me and my family.”

“Robert if you would just let us speak—”

“Ain’t nothing you say I want to hear,” Riggs seethes as he caresses Eric’s back mindlessly. Eric leans his head against his dad’s chest and starts to calm.

“We don’t even know who you are anymore,” Lenore comments, shaking her head as she shoves a hand at him, letting her eyes travel the length of him. “You look like a street thug, not a Montgomery.”

“Lenore, that’s enough,” Mr. Montgomery shouts.

“You’ve got ten seconds to get the fuck out of my house before this street thug drags your ass down to the gutter,” Riggs threatens.