Wild, panicked ringing pierced Emily’s ears. Mouth parting in a silent gasp and body a twisted pile of nerves, her wide, tear-filled eyes honed in on Gavin. His brows angled down, deepening the sharp crevices splintering his face. His lips curled over his teeth as though he was fighting a poisonous taste. His eyes, those hypnotizing, beautiful eyes, turned a shade of blue so deep, dark, and vengeful, she swore he’d become possessed. She gulped as she prepared for his fury.
Gavin sprung to his feet, his hand darting forward. Clutching the collar of Dillon’s red polo shirt, Gavin dragged him up, their bodies inclined over the table. Faces as close as lovers about to share a passionate kiss, Gavin’s knuckles turned white. “Don’t throw your fucking threats at me, pussy,” he snarled. “I’ll kill you right here in this diner.”
Palms resting on the table, Dillon’s eyes flashed like brushfire. His words came out in a loud, barking laugh. “Did you hear that, everyone? This man said he’s about to kill me in front of all of you. Who wants to watch?”
With her chest heaving fast in quick, shallow breaths, Emily whipped around, taking in the curious onlookers. Every pair of eyes in the diner was focused on the display. A mother with two young children gasped in stupefied horror, shooting a scrutinizing glare at Emily. Seconds before the manger reached the table, Emily grabbed Gavin’s elbow in an attempt to diffuse the situation. “Gavin,” she choked out, blinking rapidly in mounting panic. “Gavin, sit down. There’s a manager coming.”
“Yes, Gavin,” Dillon said in a low sneer, his face inches from Gavin’s. “You might want to be careful. He might’ve already called the cops. Maybe your bid upstate will begin tonight?”
“Excuse me,” said the middle-aged manager standing in front of their table. Clearly flabbergasted by the scene, he dug his hands in his hips, his voice firm. “I need to ask you gentleman to calm down, or I’m going to have to throw you both out.”
Eyes aflame with black fury, Gavin slowly released Dillon. Head jarred and body shaking with unleashed hunger for Dillon’s blood, Gavin pulled in a deep breath and cleared his throat. “We’re actors.” Gavin stared at Dillon, his tone so calm, it sent a shiver screaming through Emily’s bones. “We were just acting out a scene.” Taking his seat again, Gavin looked at the manager. “Please accept my apologies. The rest of our stay will be uneventful.”
“Actors?” the manager asked, skepticism heavy in his question.
“Yes. Actors,” Gavin answered coolly, watching Dillon sit again.
The man nodded. “Okay, actors, don’t let it happen again. If you do, you’re both out of here.” On that note, he turned and walked away.
“What do you want?” Gavin asked. His eyes were murdering Dillon from across the table, but his tone held sickening composure.
Dillon lifted his shoulder in a casual shrug, an evil grin bleeding over his mouth. “I want in. I want access to each and every single doctor’s appointment. I also want to be present during the birth.” He paused, slid a hand though his slicked back, dirty blond hair, and aimed his gaze at Emily. “I’ve always wondered what the screams of a woman sounded like when she’s being split in two from the pain that comes with pushing another human being from her body. Especially the women who deserves every minute of that pain.”
Gavin surged forward, but Emily quickly lifted her hand to his chest. Nearly speechless, her face twisted in shock. “You’re out of your fucking mind,” she breathed, wiping a tear from her face. “You don’t want any part of this baby, and you know it, you bastard. You’re not even supposed to be near me.”
Dillon leaned back and crossed his arms. “You’re right about a few things, Em. No, I’m not supposed to be near you. But let’s not forget what the cop said at the school. Once again you’ve been a bad, bad girl breaking the rules.” He wagged a disciplining finger at her. “I did a little research. You can have the order of protection amended in a situation like this so I can attend all of these joyous events coming up in our lives. And you’re also correct in that I really have no desire to have any sort of relationship with the little fucker. Either way, I’m—”
“How much?” Gavin questioned, a bid upstate looking more appealing with every word dropping from the asshole’s mouth. “How much do you want to walk the fuck away? Walk away and never bother us again.”
Dillon threw his head back, laughing as he cupped his chin. “You see, Gavin, I’m not as stupid as you may think I am. Don’t ever forget that. I knew you would try to buy your way out of this. I know your fucking kind, the rich sleaze walking this fucking earth thinking they can purchase everyone around them. I don’t need your fucking money. I have my own. Don’t think for one second you fucked me by pulling your accounts because you didn’t. Now, sure, even Trump would be a madman, passing up a little more cash. But no amount of green you can pay me will provide the same satisfaction I’m going to get from watching you two squirm under the pressure of having me around during all of this. I’m already fucking warm and fuzzy just thinking about it. One million or ten million of your filthy dollars couldn’t buy that feeling. If I could, I’d bottle it up. I’m hitting you where it’s going to hurt you the most, and that’s not your wallet. It’s sitting right next to you looking mighty fine this evening.”
Gavin clenched his jaw. He felt backed into a corner as Dillon stood.
“I have to drain the snake. In the meantime, I think you both have a few things to go over. I’m a nice guy, so I’ll recap everything before I leave you two lovebirds alone. So, let’s see.” Brows furrowed, Dillon crossed his arms and stroked his jaw in mock concentration. “Not only do I have surveillance footage of every second of you choking me on my desk, but I have witnesses. I have a crowd of witnesses here tonight who saw you attack me, and I have a slew of family members who play golf, drink, and barbeque with the highest criminal judges in Manhattan’s court system. How fucking lucky am I? Now, you two think very carefully about your decision. We can make this somewhat easy or really fucking hard.” Without another threatening reminder spoken, Dillon spun in the direction of the bathrooms.
Squeezing her eyes closed, Emily released a shaky breath and rested her elbows on the table. She caressed her temples in an effort to combat a pulsating headache, feeling as if it was splitting her skull open. Tension jittered through every muscle in her body. “We have to let him, Gavin. I’ll go to the district attorney on Monday and make whatever changes I have to make to the order of protection.”
“No fucking way. My father’s a lawyer. We’re not agreeing to anything this asshole wants until I talk to him.”
Emily lifted her head, her gaze tracing Gavin’s face. He looked as exhausted as she felt. Her voice came out quiet but sharp. “I’m not waiting. I’m not taking a chance you’ll get thrown in jail. You might be this baby’s father, and I need you in its life. In my life. Please? We’re both shot from this. I can’t deal with any more.”
“Jesus Christ, Emily,” Gavin whispered, turning to face her. “He wants to be in the goddamned delivery room. Do you know what that’ll do to me? It’ll put me in my grave. Think about what you’re saying. It’s bad enough I’m forced to reason with what he did to you, but you want me to share the birth of a child that could be mine with him?”