For the Win - Page 112/147

She obviously hadn’t counted on Gunnar’s source of wealth drying up. And now it was clear they were panicking.

“I don’t have that kind of money sitting around.”

He scowled. “Then call your dad.”

My mouth dropped. “I can’t do that. You, her husband, actually expect me to call up her ex-husband and ask for money for her? Have some pride and don’t be an idiot.”

His fists clenched and he stepped forward. “Don’t you dare call me that.”

Jordan pushed partway between us and Gunnar cast a wary glance at him. “C’mon, April, grow a backbone and just call him.”

Jordan’s hand clenched into a fist at his side.

Gunnar scowled at him. “Chill out. You’re just the dude she’s fucking this week. I’ve known her for years.”

Jordan took a step toward Gunnar. “Doesn’t mean you can insult her.”

Gunnar flicked a hard gaze at me. “Trust me, she’s not worth the trouble.”

Jordan’s fist came up. Oh shit. I never thought of Jordan as the combative type. And even though they were almost the same height, Jordan outweighed Gunnar by at least fifty pounds. I’d hung onto those meaty biceps while I’d been in his arms and had a feeling they could do some serious damage.

“Jordan, no. It’s not worth it…” I said in a trembling voice.

Gunnar grinned triumphantly. “You see? Even she agrees.”

Gunnar didn’t even know what hit him. Jordan lashed out, his fist connecting with Gunnar’s jaw. The little weenie was knocked back, stunned, as his nose gushed like a red fountain.

“That’s for splitting her lip and not having the decency to apologize, you fucker.”

Gunnar cupped a hand around his nose and straightened. “Jesus Christ! Calm the fuck down! It was an accident.”

“This isn’t.” Jordan swung again. Since he was left-handed, Gunnar hadn’t been prepared as the left hook came at him, this time clipping him under the eye.

Gunnar fell back against the corner of the counter—which had to have hurt—and he slid to the ground. “I’m calling the cops!”

“Really? And what’ll happen when I show them her face and tell them you did that to her? I may go to jail, but you’re going right along with me.”

Gunnar sniffled, blood pouring out of his nose now. My mother came running in and screamed when she saw him. I grabbed the roll of paper towels and threw it to Gunnar. It bounced on the floor before he snatched it up, immediately grabbing a fistful and pressing it to his face.

Jordan shook out his hand and I saw that his knuckles were scraped. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet and removed a wad of hundred-dollar bills, throwing them on the ground in front of Gunnar. They rained down like an orange-green waterfall. “You take that. You go quietly and you don’t ever, ever mess with her again. Got that?”

My mom’s jaw dropped, and I’m pretty sure mine did too. “Who the hell do you think you are? She’s my daughter. No one can tell me that I can’t see my own daughter!”

Jordan’s features chilled and he turned to me, taking my arm in his hold. “She can.” I let him push me toward the bedroom where Sid was cowering on her bed with a pillow clutched to her like a teddy bear. She jumped when we came in, then her eyes widened when she saw Jordan.

He nodded to Sid before turning toward me. “Grab your stuff, April. I’ll take you over to my place.”

I grabbed some pants, a shirt, my makeup and toothbrush and stuffed them into an empty gym bag. “Sid, I’m so sorry,” I said.

“Hi there…I’m Jordan. Do you feel safe if we leave now?”

She nodded at him. “My brother is on his way over here. I already called him to come get me.” She turned to me. “Just go, Apes. Get the heck out of here. I’m so sorry this happened.”

Jordan took my arm again and pointed me toward the door. “Let’s go.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He slipped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me against him. “No need to thank me.”

When we got out to the living room, Gunnar had his face buried in the paper towels. My mother was huddled on the couch next to him, stroking his hair and crying.

She looked up when I crossed the room and grabbed my purse. “Where are you going?” she asked faintly.

“That doesn’t concern you. Please be gone before I get home.”

“April,” she began in a voice that was half apologetic, half reproachful.