Dear Ex-wife Marry Me by Twin Bridge

“Give the Porters a heads up. If they’re planning on offing a lady soon, they gotta run it by me first.” “Got it.” After hanging up, Quentin slipped his phone into his jeans pocket. A male voice sounded from behind him. “Quentin.” He squinted his eyes. When did this dimwit come out? Patric stood just inside the doorway, completely oblivious to the murderous aura Quentin was exuding, and asked innocently. “Where’s Maja? I wanna see Maja.” Quentin waved him off, clearly annoyed. “She’s out shopping, will be back any minute.” Patric, still feverish, his mind foggy, didn’t believe him. “Really? I don’t believe it. I want yogurt, the kind with nuts in it.” Quentin gave him a once-over and walked inside, slamming the door shut. “If you’re hungry, you’ll have to wait. Stores are closed, power’s out everywhere, can’t buy a thing.” “I don’t believe you.” Patric plopped down right where he stood. “I don’t believe you. Go out and get it for me.” Quentin moved forward a few steps and watched as Patric rolled onto the ground. “I’m starving. If I don’t eat something, I’ll really die. I want yogurt, a steak, a bread.” He rattled off a string of dishes, Quentin didn’t remember a single one. It had rained that afternoon. The ground was still wet. Patric, soaking wet from rolling around, seemed completely unaware. Quentin grabbed a stool and sat down under the eaves. Candles flickered around him, the dim light barely cutting through the darkness. No telling when the power would come back. He watched, almost amused, as the grown man wallowed in the mud like a child. After about ten minutes, Patric seemed to realize he wasn’t getting any food tonight and, out of sheer frustration, passed out cold. Quentin stood, walked over, and gave him a nudge with his foot before realizing the guy had indeed fainted. He dragged him inside, turned on the underfloor heating to warm up the place, dumped him on the floor, and left him be. Patric was running a high fever, and the ordeal only made it worse, but he woke up. His whole face was flushed. Quentin glanced outside and saw the lights were on; the villa had just been in the dark. Power must have come back on about ten minutes ago. He flipped on the lights, and the room warmed up. “Quentin, Maja didn’t die, did she?” Patric, delirious with fever, couldn’t help but ask. Quentin was already short on patience with him. How did this fool even think to worry about someone else? He was about to brush him off when he heard faint footsteps in the yard. Very light. Whoever it was, was trying to be stealthy. Not Maja. Who else would come to this villa at this hour? “Idiot, hide!” As soon as the words left his mouth, gunshots rang out. His expression turned fierce in an instant. He pulled out the gun hidden under the couch cushion and ducked behind the door. It looked like it wasn’t only the Porters on Inner Island with trouble tonight; other families were stirring too. He saw Patric lying in the open and, in that

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the house. He killed the lights and fired towards the sound. A body hit the floor, but the gunfire intensified, more people outside guarding. What was going on? Had his cover been blown? Outnumbered, he almost instinctively grabbed Patric, thinking to use him as a shield. Bullets whizzed by, one striking Quentin’s knee, causing him to break into a cold sweat. There