Tsk. He’s only trying to mess with my head now, probably as retribution for sending him those pics. “She hates your guts. You don’t know shit about her.”
“I know enough. She will run away from you again and again, and then what? You’ll come to me because I couldn’t keep my word and let you have her. My life is on the line. How do you know she won’t run back to that man and his little girl?”
My lips part, but I don’t have a quick answer to take away the doubt nestling in my heart.
“That’s the thing, Easton. You don’t know, and you never will. You might’ve taken her from him, but you can never keep her away from what she really wants. And if she ends up running, and I end up losing my life … that’s not worth it to me.”
“Stop worrying about your goddamn pitiful life. And don’t fucking call me anymore,” I growl before hanging up the phone and throwing it across the room in a bout of rage.
I pace around the room, thinking about all the possible scenarios our doomed marriage could have and how many times she’ll still run away after I chase her off … if she’ll ever love me.
And her dad, who always tries to get in the way.
Fuck.
Even after I’ve got him down in the dirt, he still manages to unhinge me.
She won’t fucking run back to Deion. She wouldn’t, right? Not after her admission in the tub. I don’t believe it. It’s not possible.
Still, that fucker managed to plant a seed of doubt in my mind, and it pisses me off.
I sit back down on the couch to stew in my own rage, staring at a plate filled with chocolates and mints Jill put there. I’m not at all in the mood for an after-dinner snack right now. The only thing I want is to retrace my steps and erase what I did.
I shouldn’t have sent him those fucking images. That fucker Davis deserves every bit of punishment he can get but not if it costs me her love. She was almost there, ready to love me back, and I wasted it all with my greed for retribution. God, I need a fucking drink.
I get up from the couch and waltz into the kitchen, but the sight of Nick with Jill stops me in my tracks. He’s holding her hand as she leans in with her head down. What’s going on here?
They both turn their heads, and the moment our eyes lock, they immediately let go of each other. Nick clears his throat, and Jill swipes away a single tear from her cheeks.
“I didn’t expect to see you here, sir,” Jill says, her tone of voice shifting constantly.
“In my own home?” I muse, cocking my head.
“Sorry, sir. I didn’t mean it that way. I … of course you can go anywhere you want,” she says, clearing her throat too.
“I’ll get going then. I’ve got more errands to run for the club,” Nick says, leaving us both but not before giving Jill’s shoulder a gentle pet.
Is something happening that I’m not aware of?
I frown and look at Jill. “Is there something I need to know?”
“No, sir. We were just talking …” she answers, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Talking? About what?” I step closer and touch the kitchen island.
“Well, you know, our life here … work.” She giggles and shrugs. “Stuff like that.”
“Right.” I narrow my eyes. She’s probably not telling me the truth, but I’ll let it go for now. “As long as you’re still loyal to me, I’m fine with it.”
“What?” Her pupils dilate, and her cheeks turn bright red. “Of course, we’re still loyal to you. Nothing will get in the way of that.”
“Good.” I grab a glass from the cabinet. After what I just witnessed, I could use a refreshing drink.
“Oh, here, let me do that,” Jill says, snatching the glass from my hand before I can even put it under the tap.
She hands me the glass, and I mutter, “Thanks.”
“If you want, I can drop by with some coffee and chocolates for Charlotte too,” she adds.
“That’d be great,” I reply.
“She seemed a little upset,” Jill adds.
I make a face. Such a sly girl for including that sentence after the fact. “You’re aware of everything, aren’t you?”
She blushes again. “Sorry, I hear a lot”—she smiles—“but it stays within these walls.”
“I hope so,” I reply.
“I think she could use some one-on-one girl talk,” she says. “You know.”
“No, I don’t know,” I reply, which makes her smile again. “Why would she need that?”
“Well, you know, since you two are …”
I lift a brow, but she doesn’t finish her sentence.
“Are what? Fighting?”
“Something like that.” She gulps. “Look, I know I shouldn’t—”
“Meddle in my business,” I fill in for her. “But you can’t help yourself.”