Be My Hero (Forbidden Men #3)(95)

PICK



Reese must've been looking forward to this evening just as much as I was. She was already at my place, waiting outside the front of the building with Mason when I made it home from work.

"You're early," I said as I approached, breathless and antsy.

She bounced forward with a smile and a gray garment bag folded over her arm. "Hey, I was a good girl and stayed out here until you got home so I couldn't ruin the surprise. But seriously, E. may want to primp. This is the first night she's been out since Skylar was born. I have three outfits for her to choose from, and a couple pairs of shoes."

I shook my head and glanced at Mason whose arms were piled down with shoe boxes. "Chicks."

He sent me a dry look over the top of them. "Oh, you don't have to tell me."

Reese sniffed as she followed me into the lobby. "I'm going to ignore your masculine comments because I'm awesome like that," Then she bumped her hip into mine. "So, where're you taking her? You know her favorite is Italian, right?"

I smiled, because I did know. "I was thinking of Luigi's down on the Plaza."

Reese clapped and sent me an approving grin. "Perfect. She'll love that." She chattered all the way up the steps to the third floor, telling me how she wanted to do Eva's hair and how she'd downloaded the perfect song onto her iPhone to dance to with Julian.

"I can't wait until Skylar's old enough for me to play with her hair. I am going to buy her so many bows and barrettes."

I paused to unlock my front door, only to frown when I found it already unlocked. "Huh. That's strange." I pushed it open. The first thing I heard was both Fighter and Skylar crying down the hall in our room.

A chill raced down my spine. I hadn't come home to a crying baby since the day Tristy had taken off and abandoned Julian. Jesus. Eva wouldn't have left and deserted my babies.

Would she?

I started for the hallway when I heard her scream.

"Pic—" The shriek was cut short before something clanged to the floor in the kitchen and the sounds of struggling followed.

"Eva." I bolted in that direction and skidded to the opening.

The sight before me was what nightmares were made of. Some dead bastard—because I was going to kill him—wearing a f*cking three-piece suit was struggling with her and fighting for possession of a chopping knife as he pinned her against the refrigerator. Tears streaked down her face, where one side was bruised and swelling from her forehead down to her cheek. The neckline of her shirt was torn and claw marks had been raked across her neck.

Launching myself forward, I grabbed the old f*cker's wrist and wrenched it, satisfied when I heard a snap and he cried out. As the blade dropped from his broken hand, I hauled him off Eva and spun him away, shoving him into the cabinets and making the back of his head crack against wood.

While he was still dazed from that blow, I landed another into his face and then one into his gut, only to realize he'd undone his belt and the top button of his pants.

"Oh, f*cker. You are dead."

After another punch, his blood flew, but hands and arms wrapped around me and yanked me back. Mason and Eva's voices buzzed in my ears. I resisted, but when a sobbing Eva wormed her way between me and the guy I was trying to kill, plastering herself to my front, it was impossible to fight around her without hurting her.

Mason backed me against the far wall, but I could still see the bastard as he shook his head, then cupped his face and wiped blood from his nose. I recognized him. The rich douche from the shop who'd come in with a flat tire on his Bentley. For some reason, that pissed me off even more. Made me think he'd targeted Eva specifically.

So I tried to surge forward to get back at him, but Eva was desperate to keep me away.

"Please," she begged. "No, Pick, no. You can't. You have no idea what he's capable of. He could destroy you. Please." She buried her face in my neck, her tears wetting my skin.

Shock made me suck in a breath. I couldn't believe she actually knew this creep. "Who the f*ck is he?"

"Her father," Reese answered me from the kitchen doorway where she stood pale-faced and frozen, gaping at her uncle from a pile of spilled shoe boxes littering the floor around her feet and the garment bag she clutched to her chest.





Chapter 24


PICK


At the sound of his niece's voice, the Bentley prick spun toward Reese.

Her gaze dipped to his open belt. "Uncle Shaw?" With a sob, she dropped the garment bag and covered her mouth with both hands as she backed up a step.

I looked down at Eva just as she glanced up at me. The loss in her eyes explained everything, all the sorrow, shame, and regret. Her expression told me exactly who'd been brutalizing her for years.

"Oh, f*ck," I whispered.

Her eyes widened. "Pick." She placed her sweet fingers on my cheeks, keeping my focus on her and no one else. "Please, don't."

I vibrated from my rage. I wanted to rip apart the monster who'd terrorized my Tinker Bell.

But f*ck. Her own father? I fisted my hands and squeezed my eyes closed, trying to obey her pleas. It seemed vital to her that I not pound him into nothing, but God, I wanted to so bad. I even had to jiggle my knee to alleviate some of the aggression thrumming through me.