And I went there because I had no idea where Damian lived.

But I sure as f**k was going to find out.

I screeched to a halt at the curb, shot out of my car and raced through the snow in the yard to the front door, not noticing the headlights of the truck that followed me go out as it parked behind my car.

I banged on the door loudly, not letting up as I shouted, “Don, open the f**king door!”

A hand came from behind me, fingers wrapping around my wrist, halting my pounding as I felt warmth hit my back and heard whispered in my ear, “Tess, Jesus, baby, calm –”

Brock didn’t finish because the door opened and Donald was standing there.

His eyes flashed quickly back and forth and back and forth again between Brock and me then a tentative smile hit his mouth as his eyes started to light and he whispered, “Tess, honey, my –”

He didn’t finish because I shouted, “Where is he?”

Donald blinked, his gaze moving between Brock, who now had my wrist and arm wrapped around my belly, his with it, and me then he asked, “Who?”

“Your f**king scum of the earth, shithead, ass**le of a son, that’s who!” I shrieked.

He blinked again then I heard, “Tess?” and looked beyond Donald to see f**king, f**king, f**king Damian standing several feet behind him in his father’s foyer.

And that was when I lost it again.

Tearing free of Brock, I shoved straight passed Donald and launched myself at Damian, arms raised, nails bared, ready to scratch his motherfucking eyes out.

His hands came up to defend himself and he took a step back but I didn’t get there.

A steel arm clamped around my waist, I let out an “oof!” and was hauled back against Brock who then clamped another steel arm around my shoulders and chest at the front.

At my ear, he whispered, “Cool it, sweetness.”

“Fuck cool! ” I screeched and struggled against his hold at the same time planting my feet as he tried to pull me back. Through this my eyes stayed glued to Damian. “You f**king dick! ” I kept screeching.

“What on –?” Donald asked with soft shock at my side but I shouted over him.

“It wasn’t enough hitting me?” I asked and Brock froze at the same time I sensed Donald doing the same. “It wasn’t enough raping me?” I kept shouting and disregarded the noise that came from Donald that sounded like someone landed a blow to his stomach. “Then you call me out of the blue, f**king lie to me a-fucking- gain after you lied to me so many f**king, f**king times I lost count with the women you screwed who were not me, and told me your father was sick as a ploy to get me to meet you.”

“My God,” Donald whispered but I kept yelling.

“Then you keep contacting me when I asked you over and over and f**king over again not to call me and you drag me into your shit with the DEA and the FBI and the police and now you send someone to shoot at my boyfriend in front of my house! ”

Damian kept his eyes glued on me too and when I quit shrieking, he said softly, “Tess –”

“Fuck you! ” I spat. “Fuck you, Damian. What did I do? What did I do but fall in love with you? What did I do to deserve you treating me like a piece of garbage and then… then…

finally when I have something good in my life, something beautiful… finally when I feel f**king safe you move to destroy that too?”

“Honey, I didn’t do –” Damian started but I cut him off.

Screaming at the top of my lungs, the sound so shrill it pierced the space like a dart, I shouted, “Don’t you dare call me honey! ”

Damian held my eyes. Brock held me close. I glared at Damian, heat boiling through my veins, through my brain, so f**king hot, it was burning me alive.

Then Damian pulled his eyes from mine, turned his head to the side, his face grew concerned and he started to move that way saying, “Dad.”

“Don’t,” Donald ordered and I tore my eyes from Damian to see Donald standing at the wall of the foyer, hand pressed against it, that hand clearly holding him up. His face was pale, his eyes on his son wounded and I hadn’t seen him for awhile but he’d always seemed younger than his years, his humor and love of life making him that way. But in that moment he looked beyond his seventy-two years and well into his nineties.

At the sight of him, a wave of pain rolled through me, my hands went to Brock’s arms, my fingers curling around, one at my chest, one at my belly and Brock’s arms got tighter.

“That’s why,” Donald whispered to his son.

“Dad,” Damian whispered back.

“That’s why we lost Tess.”

I felt tears fill my eyes.

Donald didn’t look away from Damian when he whispered a tortured, “You raped her?”

“It wasn’t –” Damian started, my body straightened, the tears vanished and I interrupted him.

“It was,” I snapped and Damian looked at me.

“Tess,” he shook his head and started to lift a hand, “things just got out of hand.”

Oh.

My.

God.

Brock made a noise low in his throat, his arms going super tight around me but I didn’t read these warning signs because I lost it again.

“Out of hand? ” I shrieked.

“Tess –” Damian started again, his eyes darting back and forth between me and Brock and, honest to God, it looked like he was weighing the decision to approach.

“Don’t you get near me, you motherfucking ass**le,” I clipped. “And, newsflash, Damian, a woman is fighting you tooth and nail screaming, ‘No!’ at the top of her lungs, crying uncontrollably and begging you to stop and you still f**k her that… is… rape even if she is your goddamned wife.”

Brock’s super tight arms convulsed twice through this speech but I only had concentration enough for Damian who winced.

Then he said softly, “You left the next day, Tess. You never gave me a chance to explain.”

I felt my eyebrows hit my hairline.

“Explain?” I asked. “Explain?” I repeated my question. “Are you f**king high? ”

“Tess, I was –”

“Clawing your way up a drug cartel,” I finished for him then leaned forward, taking Brock’s arms with me thus taking Brock with me. “I know,” I hissed and leaned back.