Chapter Forty-three
After Stacy selected the two pieces for display a few days ago, I went to have them canvassed and just got back home from dropping them off at the gallery. The wall had already been prepped, and they should be up by tomorrow. It’s a good feeling to be doing something that will hopefully bring me some opportunities.
When I start heading back to my office, there’s a knock on the door.
“Are you Ryan Campbell?” a guy questions when I answer it.
“Yeah.”
He hands over several papers and says, “I’ve got some legal documents here for you. Are you active military?”
“No.”
“Okay. Well, there’s no signature required. Have a good day,” he tells me before walking down the stairs.
Closing the door, I unfold the papers to find that I’ve just been served a subpoena, and when I see who the plaintiff is, anger that I haven’t felt in a while kicks up. This f**ker has a lot of nerve, and I’m about to put an end to this shit, pulling out my phone and calling Jase, who’s out of town with Mark right now.
“Hey, Ryan. What’s up?
“I need to know where I can find Jack,” I demand.
“What?” he asks as I take him off guard.
“I just got served a subpoena, man. Tell me, or I’ll just get on the computer and find him myself.”
“What are you gonna do?”
“What should have been done months ago,” I tell him as my annoyance builds inside of me. “Don’t make me ask again,” I nearly threaten.
Jase huffs out a hard breath before responding. “He lives at the frat.”
“Which one?”
“The Lambda house on nineteenth.”
I hang up without saying anything else and grab my keys.
My heart is racing when I pull up in front of the large brick house. There aren’t many cars around, and with classes over for the summer, everything is in my favor when I knock and he’s the one that answers. The preppy son of a bitch stands there in his white polo as my fist clenches around the court documents in my hand. Looking at his face, you can still see the slight greyish-yellow bruising around his nose and muted pink rings under his eyes where I beat the shit out of him nearly two months ago. There is no doubt that I seriously f**ked this guy up.
His eyes are wide as he looks at me in shock, and I don’t say a word when I push my way inside, kicking the door shut before I fist his shirt and slam him up against the wall, pinning him with my forearm square across his neck.
I’m seething, and the fear in his eyes is prominent.
“Candace Parker, you know her?” I grit out in pure hate. My muscles tense as I keep him locked against the wall.
He doesn’t speak as all the blood drains from his face at the mere mention of her name.
“Yeah, you know her.” Backing my weight off, I slam my arm into him again, causing his head to pound against the wall. “You’re lucky I didn’t f**kin’ kill you at the bar.”
“Dude,” he faintly gasps out in distress, and his voice just adds to my rage.
“Don’t think that I’m not still considering it because I’ll kill you with my bare hands, and there’s not a goddamn thing you can do to stop me because I know you don’t want your dirty secret being exposed.”
“I don’t know what that bitch told you, but I didn’t do shit,” he spits at me.
Slamming him down to the ground, head smacking hard against the wooden floor, I grip his neck in my hand, yelling, “I was f**kin’ there, you sack of shit. Who do you think beat your ass that night? I know everything you did to her, and there’s a rape kit with your DNA all over it, so tell me again that you didn’t do shit!”
Before he can respond, I pull back and hammer my fist into his nose as he screams out, blood running down his face.
“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna kill you. But I am gonna let you go through your life every day wondering if that’s going to be the day that I show up, because I’ll never let what you did to her go. So you can live your life in fear just like she does every day, you piece of shit.”
Striking my fist into his jaw, I stand and pick up the papers that I dropped. I step back over to him as he lies there, curled up in agony, and lean over as I smack the papers on the ground next to his face, telling him, “You’re gonna drop these charges today and f**k off.”
My veins are on fire with vengeance and knowing that I’ve got him by the balls on this, I ram my booted foot into his smug-ass face, listening to him heave in pain as I walk out. All my emotions about Candace that I’ve pushed down these past couple weeks flood back in a matter of seconds. I could kill that f**ker, but it still would never feel like enough because even after all this time apart, the hard truth is, I still love her with every part of me. She’s moved on, and I have been trying to do the same, but here I am, back in this.
Driving home, fueled by rage laced with sadness, I crack. I’ve never hated a single thing more than I hate that sick f**k for what he did to my girl. For what he did to us. I lost it all because he’s the one that gave me the secret that I held from her. He’s the one that inflicted himself on our relationship that no longer is. Without even trying, he continues to cause chaos in our lives.
After spending a good chunk of the day taking my lingering aggravation out at the gym, I’m finally able to settle my nerves and calm down. I have no doubt that the charges will be dropped, so I’ll give it a few days before calling to make sure there isn’t anything pending against me.