Page 6 of With Spite

“Huxley!”

I sighed. “Mom, I’m at home, yes. But that’s because I’m freakin’ tired. I want a day off. You made me work for twelve hours yesterday hauling in boxes of shit. My back hurts. My shoulders hurt. My legs hurt. And I have to work all day tomorrow. I need a day off.”

As I explained, Bernice parked and got out of the car.

She walked up to the front door, but I could tell that she was freaking out. She was looking over her shoulder every few seconds.

I didn’t have to come out of my garage to know that one of the Hubers was outside, likely taunting her.

Bernice had her keys out and she was trying to shove the key in the door when she froze.

“Gotta go, Mom.”

“Huxley, wait…”

I hung up and walked out of my garage as I was shoving my phone back into my jeans pocket.

I crossed through my front yard and headed for Patrick Huber, who was now at the edge of Bernice’s driveway.

“Patrick, get away from my woman.”

Patrick’s brow rose. “Your woman?”

“You heard me,” I growled. “Go.”

“Thought she was that mute’s woman? What’s his name? Otis?”

I rolled my eyes. “Odin. And no. She’s mine.”

When I chanced a glance at the door, it was to find Bernice no longer outside.

Thank fuck.

Maybe she hadn’t heard me declare her as mine.

It hadn’t exactly been on my to-do list for today—declaring her mine.

But I knew if I did, he’d respect the unspoken boundary that I’d just laid out for him.

Patrick didn’t respect much, but he did respect me.

I’d beaten the shit out of him too many times to count since we were both in high school for him not to.

He’d been a huge bully, and I hated bullies.

“I’m just being friendly,” Patrick drawled.

“Don’t,” I said. “Don’t talk to her. Don’t look at her. Don’t smile in her direction. You don’t even breathe in her direction.”

Patrick smirked. “She your kryptonite?”

I rolled my eyes. “Go home, Patrick.”

Patrick retreated, but I could tell that he wasn’t going to give up.

Great.

I might’ve made Bernice’s life worse.