Fred didn't question it.
Alex walked across the room, pausing in front of a framed photo on the wall. A smiling boy with missing front teeth sat on his father's shoulders while the mother kissed her husband's cheek. Innocence. Love. A world worth protecting.
"You have a beautiful family," Alex said over his shoulder.
"Thank you?" the man said faintly, blinking in stunned disbelief as Alex turned his back and exited through the front door.
Alex didn't respond. The cool air of the quiet Queens night slapped against his face as he stepped outside, jaw clenched, the tension in his chest far from relieved. His mind wasn't quiet. In fact, it was roaring.
Someone had hurt his woman.
Someone had frightened her.
Someone had dared to come for her—and that someone had to die.
His fists clenched involuntarily at the memory of Eva's blood-smeared blouse, her trembling lips, the way she'd looked at him with relief.
