Chapter 122: Bad Choice

The breeze swept across the empty land, carrying with it absolutely no useful suggestions.

Richard’s eyes shifted toward Felix again.

This was ridiculous. Completely fucking ridiculous.

He was a respectable businessman not a boxer. Richard looked Dorian over carefully.

Tall.

Fit.

Younger.

But still a lawyer.

Felix, on the other hand, looked like he ate lawyers for protein.

Absolutely not.

Even the force of the wind from Felix’s hand would be enough to knock him out.

"Fine! This is what you want, son of a bitch? Let’s do this." Richard ripped off his jacket.

Dorian had been hoping he would choose him.

Truly.

Because it was the wrong choice.

Felix looked terrifying, yes. The man was built like somebody had stacked three security guards on top of one another. But Felix didn’t actually have a mean bone in his body.

Dorian had gotten him out of a setup years ago, and Felix had basically treated that as a life debt ever since.

A slow, menacing smile appeared on his face.

"Wrong choice."

Richard barely had time to register the words before Dorian’s closed fist slammed into his face.

The impact snapped Richard’s head violently to the side. Blood sprayed from his mouth in a brutal arc as he staggered backward, one hand flying instinctively toward his jaw.

"Fuck!" Richard yelled.

Dorian flexed his fingers once. "See, Felix here doesn’t carry the anger burning in my blood."

Richard looked up at him, stunned.

"He doesn’t understand the fury I’ve been feeling since I saw my wife’s face. You’re going to need surgery to fix yours."

"You crazy fucking—"

"Come on." Dorian spread his hands. "Is it suddenly hard to get those fists up because I’m a man? Defend yourself!"

That anger he had been sitting on since Naomi quietly admitted Richard hurt her broke through completely.

Richard grabbed his jacket from where it had started slipping from one hand and then dropped it altogether, raising both fists awkwardly in front of his face.

Dorian had never expected Richard to be much of a fighter.

Men like him usually weren’t. They were brave when nobody hit back.

Richard moved first, trying to cover his face and create enough space to regain control.

That was a mistake.

Dorian wasn’t interested only in his face. He stepped sharply to the side and hooked Richard’s foot out from under him.

Richard’s balance disappeared instantly. His arms flew outward as he started going down.

Then, with one open palm, Dorian added enough force to his chest to send him harder toward the ground.

Richard hit with a sickening crunch, grunted and groaned on the ground. He didn’t even realize Dorian was going easy on him.

At fifty-five, Richard was nowhere near as strong, fast or fit as Dorian, and the difference between them had been obvious from the first punch. The scales were never going to tip in Richard’s favor.

Dorian knew that. He also knew that if he stopped thinking and put too much force behind what he was doing, he could seriously injure the man.

And despite the anger burning through him, he did not want Richard dead.

He just wanted this rage out of his system. He wanted Richard to remember this moment every single time his hand so much as twitched in Naomi’s direction.

"Get your fucking ass up! Now!" Dorian yelled.

Richard dragged in a painful breath. His vision was beginning to blur. Bright spots danced in front of his eyes and his balance was completely gone, but pride was a stubborn thing. He pushed himself off the dirt and managed to stand.

Dorian watched him sway.

Richard lifted his fists again, although at this point it was difficult to tell whether he was trying to defend himself or simply remembering there were supposed to be hands somewhere near his face. He made another foolish attempt to move forward.

Dorian drew his fist back. His knuckles landed squarely in the center of Richard’s face.

Richard dropped straight down. He sprawled across the dirt, completely unconscious.

Dorian flexed his fingers slowly. "Well, that was anticlimactic." He sighed.

All that anger. All that buildup. And Richard had lasted about two minutes.

Dorian reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick wad of cash. He handed it to Felix. "Drop him back at his house and leave him in the driveway. His family can handle it from there."

Felix accepted the money.

Dorian gave him a small nod. "Thank you, Felix."

With that, he turned and walked away.

His shoulders finally felt lighter.

After that, Dorian spent the rest of the day at home. He took calls from his family checking in, worked through several case files and answered emails from his office.

Every now and then, he caught himself listening for the garage door. Eventually, boredom drove him downstairs.

He wandered into the kitchen and fed Gertrude 2.0.

At around ten that night, his phone finally buzzed.

Dorian opened the message. She wouldn’t be coming home.

There was an emergency at her aunt’s house, and she needed to stay over to babysit the kids. A slow smile spread across his face.

Looks like Humpty Dumpty truly had to be put together again.

*****

Naomi had already gotten the kids ready for school.

Ethan was dressed, bag over one shoulder and looking half-awake. Missy had taken significantly longer.

Naomi had finally gotten both of them out of the house and decided she would drop them off herself. After that, she planned to stop by the townhouse, grab a change of clothes and head straight to the bakery.

Diana’s car pulled into the driveway.

Something was wrong.

She could tell immediately from the way her aunt parked, the sharp movement of the car and the expression on her face behind the windshield.

Diana looked furious.

"Aunt Diana?" Naomi called.

Diana got out of the car and slammed the door. "Ethan, Missy, get in my car."

Missy frowned. "I want Aunt Naomi’s car."

Diana’s head snapped toward her. "Get in my car now! Ethan, take your sister."