Mr. President

send my fist crashing against the face of the first man. He falls down on the ground, grabbing his broken nose, and the other man turns around to face me.

He raises his gun at me, but I grab his wrist and twist his arm around, only stopping when I hear the nauseating sound of his bones breaking.

“Fucking wish you’re dead after this, motherfucker,” I yell through clenched teeth, kicking the man closest to me in his ribs.

I hear fucking bone crunch.

I don’t fucking care.

The first guy tries to rise up, but seeing the look in my face he wavers.

I don’t fucking take a chance. I run the three steps over to him and kick him.

Hard.

My foot hits his face.

He crumples.

I’m breathing hard. Fucking seeing red.

I kick both their guns as far away from them as I can, and then finally turn to Destiny.

“You okay?” I ask her, and she closes the distance between us and presses her mouth against my own.

“I am now,” she whispers at me. “Let’s get out of here.” Holding her with one arm over her shoulders, I take her to the passenger’s seat in the limo and then take my seat behind the steering wheel. The men—definitely not cops—are crawling toward their guns, but the moment they hear the roar of the limo’s engine they roll to the side to let us through.

Now more calmly, I take us through the late New York’s traffic and head right down to my apartment in the Financial District. I’ll be close enough to Python if anything happens and, besides, I need to get to the bottom of this right now.

I have a few questions, and I fucking bet that Destiny has the answers.

76

Destiny

For the first time in hours, I feel safe. Standing with Austin in his apartment, it feels that the real world can’t get to me here.

And even if it does, Austin would just kick its ass and send it on its way, just like he did in that alley. I don’t even want to think about what would've happened if he hadn’t showed up when he did.

I mean, Lester is out of control, and if he got ahold of me, knowing him as I do…I’m shuddering.

The commissioner has a mean streak to him, you know? He always had a knack for extortion, but I just took saw him as another dirty cop—dirty, but not evil.

But I was wrong.

Lester is looking more and more like a New York devil, and I’m starting to realize that extortion might be just be one of his pastimes.

“Thank you,” I mutter as I sit down on Austin’s couch and he hands me a glass of water. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my hands as I wrap my fingers around the glass.

“Hey, babe,” he says, sitting next to me, tucking a lock of hair over my ear. “No need to fucking thank me. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

I put the glass to my lips and start drinking—the cold water calming my nerves. I try to push Lester’s evil grin to the back of my mind, and then I look up at Austin. There’s relief in his eyes, but there’s also concern. By the way he’s looking at me, I know that he has a few questions dancing on the tip of his tongue.

“Just get it out,” I tell him, sighing. I place the glass of water on the coffee table in front of me and fold my hands on my lap, feeling that the time to come clean has finally arrived. I just hope it’s not too late.

“You asked for it,” he chuckles lightly before he starts, licking his lips while he looks for the right words. “What was Lester doing at your club? What was that all about? Because that dude came to fight a war tonight, not close down a fucking strip club.” Pursing my lips, I look into Austin’s eyes and swallow down all hesitancy. Time to come clean.

Here I go.