“Besides not being there for her, you still hit the clubs, still fucked all the subs. She knew that, and it crushed her.”
“She said that in her suicide note?”
“It was obvious. And she knew that you were hardly a monk while you were in Miami on business. I know exactly what you were doing the night of her birthday. Or who you were doing. How do you think that made her feel?”
Liam scowled. “We spent hours negotiating everything before we started sharing her. Exclusivity wasn’t part of the deal. She’d seen me with other women and never seemed to mind.”
“Of course she minded,” Hammer shouted. “Do you think she liked feeling as if she wasn’t enough for you?”
Liam sent him a sharp glare. “And Juliet told you she felt this way? Or is this how you feel?”
“That’s great. Pin it on me.” Hammer threw his hands in the air. “You’ve taken two women from me, but you won’t take an ounce of guilt. Perfect.”
With fists clenched around the chair, Liam ground his teeth. “Fine. You want it to be all my fault? Okay, it is. It’s all my fucking fault. Juliet would have been beyond happy if I hadn’t agreed to your invitation, invaded your marriage, and fucked up your lives, so I’ll take every ounce of blame. Now you can sleep at night. Feel better?”
No, he didn’t, not one fucking bit. His whole body clenched in knots.
“Yeah,” he lied. “Your turn to carry this load around, asshole. And if you fuck up Raine too, I’ll rip your head off and shit down your throat.”
“Trust me, I’ll take care of Raine. All day, all night, in every way she needs.”
Hammer surged closer. “You barely know her. I might not have watched over her perfectly before you barged in, but she wouldn’t even tell you the date she should have gotten her period. I can damn well make her talk. She needs a strong Dom. She needs me. And if I get a chance to be with Raine again, you can bet your ass I’ll take it.”
“It’s not enough that you hoard this secret, then lay it on my shoulders eight years too late. But you also spew out that you’ll fuck my Raine again, given the chance. I ought to shove your fucking balls up your ass and make sure the only way you can find them is with a toothpick.”
Hammer opened his mouth to rage back, but the door pushed open suddenly. Raine stepped in, squinting against the light. She surveyed the damage with a frown, her hair pulled haphazardly away from her pale face. The ancient T-shirt she wore looked at least four sizes too big and swallowed her up.
With a pained frown, she stared at them both as if they’d lost their minds. “What’s going on? Why are you shouting?”
Liam glared at him, then scooped Raine up in his arms. “It’s nothing, love. Let’s get you back to bed. I’ll come with you.”
Hammer could only watch the other man take the woman he loved away, maybe this time for good.
Two hours later, Hammer sat on the edge of his bed, swirling a tumbler of Scotch, his thoughts circling like the amber liquid. He’d lost the grip of his icy control in the kitchen with Liam. Why the hell had he suddenly unloaded years of anger and dumped it on the man? Had he expected Liam to magically wash away the layers of blame and make everything better? Hammer scoffed. By finally vomiting out the truth, he’d managed to purge a lot of resentment. Why didn’t he feel any better? He should have confronted Liam and his own guilt years ago. He just hadn’t had the balls to wade through the shit. He really didn’t want to now.
“Mind if I join you?”
Hammer zipped his stare to the doorway to find Beck leaning against the frame, his arms folded across his chest, eyeing the decanter of Scotch on the nightstand.
“Help yourself.” Hammer nodded, raising his glass in the air, toasting his own stupidity. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d taken everyone back to your place for beer and football.”
“We caught the last half of the game, then they all bailed. I came back to see if the club was still standing. What the fuck, man? I don’t think I’ve ever sat through a more uncomfortable Thanksgiving. What do you have planned for next year, pissing in the gravy?”
Hammer issued a humorless chuckle. “You missed the fun part.”
“Yeah, I kind of figured. When I couldn’t find anyone, I peeked in the kitchen.” Beck gave a low whistle. “It looks like World War Wedgwood hit that place. So who won?” Beck asked, cocking a brow as he pulled up a chair across from Hammer and took a seat.
“No one.” Hammer sighed in disgust. “I royally fucked up, man.”