Stefan Pierce

I take a long breath out. I grab him by the collar with both of my hands.

"Lay your nasty finger on her, I'll have all your fingers chopped off."

I see panic crawling up his face for the first time in my life—and the final time in his. My breathing quickens, and I am forced to look into his eyes. Hearing cruel things said about Clara makes me tighten my grip on him.

He works on a swallow, trying to play it off with a smile. "Calm down, lad."

"I won't." I never would. "I need to hear you say that you will leave her alone."

"What if I don't?"

One of my brows lifts. My lips curl up into a wry smirk.

That is it for Halder J.

I would never believe I will do what I'm about to do in all the years I've dealt with guys like Halder.

I lean back in my seat and run a trembling hand through my hair. Is it because I'm angry or because of what I'm going to do that my hands are shaking? It doesn't matter now.

"Got any girlfriend or wife, Halder?" I inquire, my gaze drawn away from him to the outside of the window.

"Stef, what are you doing?" Mae speaks in my earpiece, her voice echoing a terror I remember having when I saw her murder someone right in front of my eyes.

I return my gaze to Halder to observe him while he responds. "None of your business, but yes, a wife."

"Any kids?" According to what I've learned about him, he's around 45 and lives in a posh apartment provided by Wyatt. But, I had no idea he is married.

He shakes his head in a no. I nod.

I pull out my phone to type a message to Mae.

Me: Don't react

Then I send a one to my soon-to-be girlfriend with a smile Halder doesn't seem to notice.

Stefan: I need that gift so bad, Clara.

Stefan: Hang on to your promise.

I put my phone in my jeans pocket and take a cigarette packet from my pocket. I make an offer, which he declines, still stunned by my rapid change in posture, tone, and demeanor.

Clara's bright and excited smiling face flashes in front of my eyes as I light my cigarette. My thoughts are occupied with no-nonsense, bad girl vibes in her walk and her throaty, honeyed laughter.

With the cigarette between my teeth, I say, "Last chance. Call your minions and tell them to fuck off."

As he speaks in pure wrath to hit someone, he rubs at his jaw, restoring his lost horror in his aura. "I won't." To prove his point, he jerks his head forward a little, his eyes wide open. "Do whatever you can, boy."

As an unlawful and outrageous feeling settles in my mind, I tilt my head. I pat on his shoulder and unlock the gas tank, so subtly to for his confused self to notice. 

"I'll send your wife my condolences, Halder J."

I get out of the car before he can react with words or actions. I round the car and lift the latch on his car's gas tank. I toss my half-lit cigarette into the tank without hesitation or second thoughts and rush back to my car with long strides.

I knock on the window, asking that Mae lower it. She does. I turn to face the vehicle. 

"Enjoy the show, sister."

The explosion reverberates through the air. The birds in the area become enraged and flee like the prisoner being escaped. I roll another cigarette between my lips and light it.

With the sounds of car parts falling apart in the background, a silent ring vibrates in my ear like it always does. If someone looked me in the eyes right now, you'd see a sick man who is proud of killing someone. However, they would never know of the reason.

The roaring fire demands my undivided attention, so I ignore Mae's hand on the shoulder.

Her voice is delighted and dark as she speaks. "Asher would never look at you and your family in the same ugly way again."

"Our family, Mae." I correct and focus my hearings on the scream coming out of the car. Halder had his seatbelt on, which must have made it difficult for him to move quickly and out of the car.

I'm so going to hell for this.

Before someone accuses me of burning someone alive, I take my hands out of my pockets and move into the passenger seat next to Mae.

Mae greets me with a pleased grin, the one I worked so hard to earn from her and dad.

"Keep up the rebellion, baby brother." Looking across the street, she acknowledges. When she is struck with a memory—mostly unpleasant—she always looks away from the person with her. "You will need it to survive in this selfish world."

Her gaze is diverted to me then, then to my hand, which is resting on my thigh, fingers interlaced. It wasn't until then that I notice they are trembling.

"The things we do for love."

I smile at her perfect interpretation of my impulsive decision.

"You were hesitant at first, weren't you?" she asks, speaking with the confidence of an experienced player. At being so predictable, I rake my hands through my hair. I didn't want her to bring it up.

"Of course, I was," I reply as the flames outside die down a little. "Who wouldn't? What I did was merely a selfish, spur-of-the-moment outburst."

Her chuckle draws my eyes to her. "What's so funny about it?"

She chews on the inside of her cheek. "Halder J was no sage." Her hold on the steering wheel becomes increasingly tight, to the point that her knuckles turn white. "Let me save you on the details, Stef, because you don't want to hear it," she continues, inhaling deeply.

Her humorless laugh resounds in the car's limited space.

"Anyways," She eventually looks at me, and with the same hand that was about to break the wheel, she strokes my hair. "You did the right thing; if you hadn't, I would have killed the bastard myself."

I nod and take her hand in mine, softly squeezing it with a sense of security and acceptance. She wants me to stay away from the dark and dangerous side of her end of the job at Dad's business, so I know she would keep all the awful trash from dropping into my ear.

I hated my father for that, but Mae never complained or decided to leave it, even when my parents offered her a brilliant job in our company several times.

Mae is a tough girl, one of a kind. For everything she is, I admire and respect her.

"Well, don't stare at me, you would never look good as me," She cracks a smile on my face with her humor.

With a pause, she says, "Call her, Stef. Tell her how much you love her."

I hug her, catching her off guard. She wraps her arms around me, and her warm, protective grip soothes me.

I take a step back and dial Clara's number. Mae, on the other hand, starts the car. I take one last look at the now-completely silent fire and the burned remnants of the car.

Everything I did today was for one special person. If I had to do it all over again, I would. Nothing or no one has the right to threaten my family or her.

When the call goes to voicemail, her sweet voice says,

Hey, it's Clara... now don't keep dialing me. I'll get back to you once I'm willing to, or, not. Byee!