Spent - Part Three (Bad Boy Fighter Book 3) by Elise Holland Read Free Book Online Page A

time begins to move. My head is spinning from the intensity of the moment. Deep down inside, pride begins to blossom within me as I realize my boyfriend managed to reel in every ounce of his anger and turn the other cheek.
    Turning my head, I look back to see Stewart’s expression. He looks dumbfounded, with his mouth gaping open. It was obvious he was looking for a fight and perhaps to file a criminal charge against us, as one final blow in ruining everything Luke and I have.  
    I smile at the frustrated grimace Stewart fails to hide before turning my focus back to the car. This whole night has been insane, but as we step away from the confrontation, I’m finally beginning to feel like some justice is being served against those who have done me wrong, even if that justice was conducted in the most subtle of ways.
    ***
    “What in the hell were you thinking?” I ask my father.
    “You deserve justice, mija ,” he replies as best as he can, despite his swollen lip.
    “I deserve a lot of things, but you’ve never been willing to give them to me,” I mutter, bitterness laced through every word.
    “I know,” my father nods his head, “I know, Natasha. But for once, I thought I could do something right by you. I thought I could bring you justice by finding the man that hurt you.”
    I shake my head, “How did you even know who attacked me?”
    My father looks up at me with tired eyes, “I asked every police officer I could find to tell me, but none would. So I find out you are writing for the school paper. I read all of your work and about these men who fight. You write well. It was all very good by the way.”
    It’s the first time I’ve heard a compliment from my father since I can remember but I don’t respond and he continues.
    “So this Baltimore venue here appears often in your articles, and the way you had been hurt… well the person that did it was brutal like this… this kind of aggressive fighting,” Beto sighs.  
    “So I came here and asked every person I could find if they knew anything about what had happened. One man… he tells me the one who you had named was this Baptiste, but that the trainer had him placed elsewhere that night.”
    I watched my father’s expression harden.
    “My daughter is no liar. So this tells me everything. That’s when I found this Stewart… this bendejo .”
    Tears prick the corners of my eyes, “You should have left it alone, Papa. He could have killed you. And if Mike hadn’t been there…”
    A gentle smile eases across my father’s face, “It would have been a good way to die, knowing that I had finally done something good for my little girl.”
    I turn back around and slump against my seat in the passenger side. Glancing over at Luke, I see his wide-eyed and contemplative expression. I realize that’s probably how I look right now as well. I have no idea how to respond to any of this. It’s as if my father has taken on a whole different perspective on life, one that doesn’t revolve entirely around him. It’s weird, confusing, and most screwed up of all, it’s planting a little bit of hope inside of me that maybe he’s actually changed.
    Silence follows us for a time, until Luke takes a random exit off the Interstate 95. I look over at him, but he seems to have a plan.
    “Beto, we’re going to take you to a hotel,” Luke mutters.  
    My father waves him off, “No need for that. I can sleep where I’ve been staying at.”
    “Mom told me you were at a homeless shelter,” I reply.
    “Yes. It’s ok, nice people. It’s near the hospital you were at,” my father says with slight embarrassment tinged in his voice.
    “You’re staying at a hotel, Beto, and you’re not going to argue with me,” Luke says firmly.
    I inhale sharply. Any moment now, my father will blow up at Luke. There is no way he would allow someone younger than him speak to him like that. At least, the man my father used to be wouldn’t have allowed that to happen. But as the