I have been so consumed with finding some sort of vengeance for Grace that I let it blind me. Axel told me from day one to let one of the other guys take over and be the eyes for me, but it is just too important to me. And in the end, I have nothing to show for it. Grace is gone, Melissa’s sister is gone, and that motherfucker got the easy out.
Now, I have to figure out if I can tell Melissa that the man who took her sister, her nephew’s mother, is someone I have tried and have been unsuccessful in stopping.
I slam my fist into the steering wheel and start the truck. It doesn’t take me long to reach the front gate and see a worried looking Stan.
“Hey man, where is she?”
“Oh hey, Mr. Cage.” He is pacing back and forth in his small little house office, clearly shaken by the crazy bitch that has become my shadow. Give a girl some good dick and all of a sudden, they think you have the answers to world peace. “She—she is over there, Mr. Cage. I am so sorry to call so many times, but she wouldn’t leave and when she started to try and climb the gate, I didn’t know what to do.”
“You did the right thing, Stan. Don’t worry about her. I’ll straighten her out right now, okay?” Poor old guy, thinking he has an easy job to keep him busy between his golf games.
Walking over to the gate entrance, I see her standing by her car with her arms crossed and attitude flying high. What. The. Fuck?
“Amanda.” She doesn’t even flinch at my biting tone. Not a brow lift, lip curl, nothing. Not a single reaction to the fact I do not want to see her here. “What are you doing here?”
She moves now, pushing herself off her immaculate BMW that I’m sure her daddy bought her, and strutting like the practiced whore she is. “Greg, baby . . . I knew you would be happy to see me! I wanted to surprise you and bring you breakfast in bed, but that man wouldn’t let me in. I told him you wouldn’t mind, baby.”
I look around to see if I can find the hidden cameras that have to be around here somewhere. There is no fucking way this bitch is for real. “What the hell are you talking about, Mandy? Never. I would never give you access to my house like that. You only know where the hell to find me because I was hard up enough for some ass that I brought you here; that was my mistake. You need to go home, Mandy. Go home and forget that you know me.” Turning around and walking away from the gate should have been easy, but when I hear a banshee cry, I can’t help but turn back around.
To say I was shocked to see her attempting to climb the gate is an understatement. But there she is, all long legs, short skirt, and blonde hair trying to scale the fucking gate. Twilight Zone, that is the only explanation I can even begin to think.
Shaking my head at the absurdity that is Amanda White, I turn and attempt to make my way back to Stan, but before I can even take one step, she is screaming. Not just normal crazy girl screaming, but this shit sounds like it is straight out of the exorcist. I check with Stan before moving back to deal with the nutjob doing her best impression of a monkey on fucking crack. Poor guy looks terrified.
“Mr. Cage? Do-do you need me to call someone?” He steps back into the safety of his little office but holds the phone out the door. “Just let me know, Mr. Cage.” And with that, he shuts the door.
Fucking figures. All I want to do is get back to Melissa, but this shit has got to stop.
When she sees me starting back in her direction, she immediately quiets and starts back down. Her shirt is half-unbuttoned, she’s missing a shoe, and I’m pretty sure all of her sanity.
“What in the fucking shit do you think you’re playing at right now, Mandy?” I growl. My voice sounds about as lethal as I have heard it before, and this is the first time I have ever directed this tone towards a woman. “This isn’t what we have and you know it.”
“But . . . baby,” she whines, “I saw you last night. During the ceremony, you kept looking right at me. Like you couldn’t wait for that to be us. I know you are just playing hard to get right now. It’s okay, baby. I know what you really want.”
How in the hell is it possible for me to misjudge someone this badly. On a scale of one to ten, this chick is a fifty, and that’s being generous, in the off her rocker, needs a white jacket and daily pills fucking crazy.
“Open it up, Stan,” I yell over my shoulder. When the gate is open enough for me to slip through, I make my way closer to her. There is no fucking way my face is inviting contact but that doesn’t stop her, hell no it doesn’t. Apparently, stepping through those gates is my first mistake. Thinking she might have any sanity left is my second. She squeals, like a goddamn seal and launches herself at me.
“Oh, baby! I knew it!” I can feel her ridiculously long nails biting into my neck as she peppers her mouth all over my face. Trying my best to fight the urge to shove her off, and failing rapidly, only fuels my fury.
“Get off me right now.” She has her legs wrapped around my hips and doesn’t even loosen the grip she has on my head.
“Why, baby? Don’t you want to take me back to your place now? We can celebrate!”
“Off. Me. Now.”