Page 83 of Mack

“Get out.” She put her hand on T.J.’s shoulder and kept her voice steady. “Right now.”

“I thought it was Mack, Mama,” T.J. said quietly.

“It’s fine, baby. Mr. Simmons is leaving.”

Troy laughed. “Mr. Simmons. Good one.” He looked past her at T.J. “I think the kid and I need to get acquainted. Let him know who I really am.”

“No. Get out of my house.”

He moved toward them and before she could react his hand shot past her and grabbed T.J. by the arm. T.J. screamed, a pure terrified sound, and pushed at Troy’s shoulder with his small hands.

“No! Put me down! Mama!”

“Put him down,” Mallory shouted. “Right now. Put him down!”

“Don’t you think he should know his father, Mal?”

“You are not his father in any way other than biologically.”

“But I am his father. That you can’t deny.” Troy looked at T.J. “Shut up!”

That just made T.J. scream louder.

“If you don’t shut him up, I will,” Troy shouted over T.J.’s screams.

“Give him to me. I’ll put him in his room until we’ve had a chance to talk.” Mallory reached for her son.

Troy hesitated, then handed him over and Mallory ran down the hallway to T.J.’s room. She sat him on the floor and squatted down.

“Stay in here until I tell you to come out. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mama, but—”

“I’ll be fine, baby. I promise. Just stay here.”

“Alright.” He looked up at her with those big brown eyes, and she almost picked him up and ran out of the house with him, but she knew Troy and he’d never let that happen. He wouldn’t care who got hurt in the process.

Mallory took a deep breath and walked back to the living room where Troy stood in the middle of it.

“Say what you have to say, then get the hell out of my house,” she said.

Troy laughed and her stomach clenched. He always did before hitting her. She’d never got used to it and she wasn’t now when his hand slapped her across the face.

Mallory fell back and hit the wall behind her. Then she straightened and looked at him.

“You pussy,” she shouted, but fell to the floor when his fist connected with her left cheek. She stared up at him, refusing to let him see she was terrified.

When he reached for her hair, using it to pull her to her feet, she wrapped her hands around his arm trying to ease the pain. He pulled her close to his face.

“Say that again?” he snarled.

“What? That you’re a pussy? Okay, you’re a pussy.”

He drew his fist back, but she continued.

“No real man hits a woman but most who do are fucking cowards. They know they can win against a woman but put him up against a real man and we’ll see who’s standing.”

“You fucking bitch. I will kill you.”