DYING FOR JUSTICE: She wanted the truth - They wanted her dead (Dying for Justice Series Book 1) by Pauline Isaksen

Author:Pauline Isaksen [Isaksen, Pauline]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-12-25T22:00:00+00:00

Wild Waters

Chris waved the slip of paper at arm’s length and glowered at Danny, his nostrils flaring. “Why do you have these personal details about my wife?”

Danny glanced from Chris’s face to the paper gripped tightly in his white-knuckled fist, and then back at Chris’s flaring eyes. “I wanted her phone number.” He paused. “You’ll find out sooner or later, I guess. I asked her on a date.”

“You asked my wife on a date?”

Danny’s jaw tightened, and his voice raised a decibel. “She’s not your wife anymore, is she? And she can date anyone she wants.”

Chris stepped forward, lifted his hands and shoved Danny backward. “And when were you going to tell me?”

Danny caught his balance and squared his shoulders. He closed in on Chris’s face until their nose-tips almost touched. “I don’t have to tell you who I date!” he shouted.

Without warning, Chris balled his right hand and drove it into Danny’s stomach. Julia screamed as she watched Danny double over, exhaling deeply. Danny’s head came up and his eyes opened wide, then they narrowed. He started to say something, but nothing came out. Chris pulled his arm back again, but Julia leaped over and forced herself between them.

“Stop it. Are you insane?” she screamed at Chris. She glared at him, her face was red, and her eyes were dark and angry. He looked down at her, his eyes glowering and his mouth tight, and she felt heat flow throughout her body. “Get out!” she shouted, punching him rapidly in the chest. “Get out! Get out!”

He stepped backward as she continued pummelling his chest, turned, headed for the door, and marched out of the flat.

Julia flew to Danny’s side. “Oh, My gosh. Are you okay?” she said, as she led him to the sofa.

He sat down, coughing. “Stupid idiot. When’s he going to admit that it’s over with Ashley?”

“He does have an incredibly possessive streak, that’s for sure.” She sat next to him, her eyebrows furrowed. “Can I get you anything?”

He winced. “Yeah. A beer would be great. Thanks.”

She fetched two bottles from the fridge, opened them, and handed him one. She had a tea-towel and a pack of frozen peas hanging over one arm. “Let’s put this ice on your stomach. It will help with the pain and any bruising.”

He lay back on the sofa, his hands holding his gut. “Thank goodness he punches like a girl, or I’d be in the hospital right now.”

She cocked her head. “It’s a little unlikely that an ex-MI5 agent punches like a girl, Danny. How are you really?”

“No, seriously. Crazy as he may have been, I don’t think he put his full force behind the punch — lucky for me.” He lifted his shirt, grimacing. “I just wasn’t prepared for it.”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe he hit you at all.” Her eyes brimmed with tears, as she gently laid the home-made ice-pack on his stomach.

He winced as the frozen pack touched his bruised skin.

She gave him a lopsided smile. “Sorry.

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