One Last Rainy Day: The Legacy of a Prince(27)

“What the fuck?!” He shrieks, attempting to turn his head as I keep him bent but walking.

“Dom!” Ginger’s sister, Marie, screams my name as if she has some ability to reason with me.

“Pack his shit,” I bark at Marie as Ginger holds the door open so I can take the trash out.

Stopping just outside of it, Marie starts to berate Ginger, and the greasy piece of shit in my grip gets it together enough to start questioning me. “What the fuck, man?! Who the fuck are you?”

Gripping his hair, I pull his head up enough to scan the parking lot.

“Which one is yours?”

“The S10, fuck, please ease up, Jesus Christ!”

“He’s not answering today,” I inform him before pinning him to his rust-eaten Chevy. “I already called.”

“She didn’t tell me she had a man, dude. I swear.” Inside, I hear the baby start to scream along with Marie, and my hackles rise.

Sean speeds into the parking lot, and in seconds, he’s by my side, his voice barely audible to the pulse thrumming in my ears as I stare at the fucking junkie who was about to hit a pipe with a baby mere feet away.

“Dom,” Marie screeches as she bounds into the parking lot with Ginger on her heels. “Dom, please don’t hurt him!”

I slam him against his truck, leering at him as Sean’s words finally start registering.

“Easy, man. This isn’t the time or place.”

“You’ve overstayed your welcome,” I inform greasy. “This isn’t your place. Ginger wants you gone. So go.”

Marie turns on Ginger. “I told you it was just a couple more days!”

Ginger stands her ground. “You said that two months ago! I found a pipe in Toby’s car seat this morning!”

Greasy, who hasn’t taken his eyes off me, starts to sputter as I slam him into the side of the truck again. “You’re smoking that poison around a baby. Are you not aware that shit can seep into his clothes, his skin?”

“Please, Dom, don’t hurt him!” Marie shrieks.

The crackhead’s smoked, false bravery decides to speak up on his behalf as he questions Marie. “Who the fuck is this guy?”

Sean supplies the answer for her. “You don’t want an answer to that. It’s best if you leave, man, and take him at his word. He’s not a fan of repetition.”

Keeping the fucker pinned to the truck, I pat him down before yanking his keys from his jeans and pressing them into his chest.

Marie must have taken a hit of the same bravery as her first threat comes out. “Let him go, or I’m calling—”

I flit my gaze to her. “You sure you want to finish that sentence, Marie?”

She backtracks as Sean turns toward her, his expression just as unforgiving as she cowers. “You know I wouldn’t. Just, please . . . let him go.”

Focusing back on the sweat-slicked junkie, I see him for exactly what he is—a complete and utter waste of a life. “Your dick seems to be clouding judgment around here.” Slamming him against the truck again, he fades, going limp in my hold.

My voice of reason speaks up beside me. “Ease up, Dom. What’s your name, man?”

“Jeffrey.”

“Jeffrey was just leaving, weren’t you, Jeffrey?” Sean gives him an easy out, a script to repeat, which he does not follow.

“Seems he’s having a hard time grasping the concept, so we’ll make it easy.” I turn to Marie. “I’m only going to say this one more time. Pack his shit. He’s taking it with him. We’ll wait, won’t we, Jeffrey?”

Jeffrey, who is full of bad decisions, has the gumption to look bored. “Yeah . . . sure.”

I turn to Ginger. “You said two months?”

“Around that, yeah,” she replies with a shaky voice, her eyes darting nervously.

“Has he given you a fucking dime for anything—rent, utilities?”

“I don’t care about that,” she waves her hand.

I turn on her. “Then maybe you deserve an unwanted houseguest if you’re willing to be so hospitable.”

She quickly speaks up. “I just want him away from my nephew.”

“I wasn’t hurting him,” Jeffery offers in a shit excuse.

“Jeffrey,” Sean shakes his head, “don’t talk.”

“Nah, let’s chat. How much cash do you have on you, Jeffrey?”

Jeffrey fearfully glances at Sean for more help and finds none.

“I dunno.”

“Hmm, Sean, how much do you have on you?”

Sean answers instantly. “Around three hundred and change.”

I turn to Ginger. “Ginger? What about you? How much is in your wallet?”

“I just filled up, so around forty dollars. Why?”

“Because only a loser without a care in the fucking world is unaware of how much money they have in their pocket, and that’s because they’re content with someone else doing all the heavy lifting.”

Reaching into Jeffrey’s back pocket, I pull out his pathetic Velcro wallet and glance over at Marie. “I see your tastes have changed drastically since high school, and you’re only getting classier with age.” Ginger snorts as Marie glares at me. “I told you to go pack his shit.”