Bad Intentions (Bad Love #2)(57)

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THIS MOTHERFUCKER. I THOUGHT ERIC would have taken the hint, but clearly, he needs a little more convincing. I try to calm myself on the way to Henry’s, taking deep breaths, not wanting to lose control like I did last time.

But is it really so bad to protect the people I care about? Because I do. Care about Lo, that is. She’s wormed her way through the frozen cracks, and she’s been slowly melting the ice inside me ever since.

I flip on my brights when I pull onto their street. I see Jess on one side of the road, a cigarette dangling from his lips, casually holding a baseball bat in his right hand. Eric is outside of his Range Rover with his arms folded across his suit-covered chest. Douche.

I swing into the driveway and jump out, leaving the truck running. This won’t take long. I walk up to stand next to Jess. “What is this, the fucking Wild Wild West? Are we about to have a shootout?”

“I’m just waiting for this pussy to step foot on Henry’s property,” he says, flicking his chin in Eric’s direction. He looks over to me, lowering his voice. “I promised Lo I’d be good.” He shrugs. “But if he steps to me, it’s fair game.”

Cutting the bullshit, I walk over to Eric.

“Well, if it isn’t Logan’s knight in shitty tattoos, here to save the day.” His face is still busted up from the other day, and I get more satisfaction than I should from the sight of him.

“Did you come here for a reason, or were you just planning to stand outside her house like a fucking creep?”

“I came to talk to Logan. I’m simply waiting until she gets home.”

I suck my teeth before saying, “Well, you’ll be waiting a while. She won’t be coming home tonight.”

Eric huffs out a laugh. “Let me guess. She’s staying at your trailer tonight.”

“Yeah. Something like that.”

Eric’s eyes narrow, probably pissed that he missed the mark in his attempt to insult me. I don’t give a flying fuck what anyone thinks about me, especially this asshole. He leans in closely, but I don’t back away. This guy is used to intimidating people. He’s not getting that from me.

“She tastes sweet, doesn’t she?” He inhales deeply, closing his eyes like he’s reliving a fond memory.

My fists clench at my sides, but, still, I don’t react. Don’t even respond.

“You should have her do that thing with her tong—”

I bob my head in a nod as if to say, okay, we’re gonna do this? striding away before he’s even finished his sentence. He laughs, thinking he won. Jess knows my plan, though, because he casually hands me the bat once I’m within arm’s reach. The look on his face tells me that if I didn’t do something, he would. I turn back for Eric, and I see the moment the fear finally sets in.

“What, regular old assault isn’t enough? You’re going to add aggravated assault to the list?”

I don’t answer him. I’m completely calm on the outside, even though I’m raging inside, fucking dying to bust his head open. Once he realizes I’m not bluffing, he jumps out of the way. But I’m not going for him. I’m aiming for that shiny Range Rover behind him.

I hit one headlight first, then my bat cracks against the other.

“What the fuck!”

I go for the hood next, gripping the bat with both hands, swinging it straight down.

“Okay. Okay! I get it. You’re a tough guy. You’ve made your point,” he yells, holding both hands out in front of him.

“See, I don’t think I have. I’m just getting started,” I say between hits, and I hear Jess laughing behind me.

“You’re psychotic.”

“That’s what they tell me.” Heard a lot over the years.

I bash his side mirror off next, and it falls to the pavement with a satisfying crunch. Once I go for the windshield, Eric rushes to the driver’s side. It takes a good two or three hits before I’m able to bust through the tempered glass, but it finally gives right as he starts the engine, sending glass all over him and the seats. He hits the gas and speeds off down the street, sans headlights.

I walk back over to Jess and hand him the bat. “That was fun.”

“And I didn’t even have to get my hands dirty. Now Lo won’t chew my ass out.”

“I might not be so lucky.”

Jess laughs.

“Can I use your phone?” I ask, knowing Lo is probably out of her mind at this point, worrying about Jesse. My phone is dead and forgotten in a pocket somewhere at home.

Jess looks at me, assessing, before flicking his cigarette to the ground. “Sure. It’s inside.”

I follow him inside. The first thing I notice is that it’s pitch-black, the only light coming from the flickering of a candle that sits on top of the coffee table. The second thing I notice is the fact that somehow, it feels even colder inside than it does outside.

Jesse retrieves his phone from the couch and hands it to me before sprawling out, folding his arms behind his head like this is his normal. And fuck, I can’t help but see myself in him. How many times was I without heat or electricity…or food for that matter? How long have they been living like this?

I walk into the kitchen, checking the top of the fridge and the junk drawer, until I find what I’m looking for, stuffing it into the back of my sweats.