Wretched Love
Page 79
He was wearing a cashmere sweater with a shirt underneath, designer jeans and leather sneakers. His skin was tanned, jaw square and clean shaven. Not a hair on his head was out of place.
For a second, I thought I was hallucinating until Swiss turned his head to Preston and said, “Who the fuck are you?” pulling me closer into his body.
“I’m Kate’s husband,” Preston replied, not even looking at Swiss. His eyes were glued on me.
I was frozen in place, quickly shrinking all the way down to the size I had been before.
“It was a challenge to find you, Kate, I’ll give you that,” he scowled. He shook his head slowly, his hands were dangling casually at his sides, his posture too relaxed. An act, a careful one. “Though obviously not impossible. But it seems I’m too late.”
It was then that his eyes went to Swiss, who was staring daggers at him.
“You left me to take up with this...” his eyes traveled Swiss’s body with a sneer and a curled lip, “criminal.”
My blood turned hot. It boiled, in fact. Suddenly, I was no longer two feet tall.
Swiss was already stiff with fury, already wearing the dangerous, alpha male battle stance which Preston hadn’t noticed because he was much too narcissistic and self-absorbed. Beyond that, he was so insulated from any kind of danger. He truly thought that he wasn’t at risk here, that he was the one in control here.
I’d known the man was deluded, but this was something else. You’d have to be detached from reality to not recognize that Swiss was in control of everything right now, that Preston was minutes away from getting his arms ripped off. As much as a part of me wanted to watch that happen, I wasn’t going to let Swiss fight my battle. I was more than capable. So I stepped forward, around him because he’d done the alpha male thing and stood in front of me. I‘m sure he wasn’t happy about that, but I wasn’t focusing on him.
“You’re either coming to that conclusion because of the color of his skin or the cut on his back, and neither of those options are okay in the slightest,” I hissed at Preston. I knew that he liked to be seen by the town as accepting and liberal, but behind closed doors he was nasty and small-minded.
It weighed heavily on me just how long I’d let this man control me. How I’d rotted in his presence, held captive by fear and helplessness.
It was me who left that day. Only me. But it was Swiss, this club, that introduced me to a different part of myself. One that was far from helpless.
Something in me snapped in response to the way he’d looked at Swiss. The way he’d spoken about him.
I leveled my gaze at Preston. “I am not yours,” I announced, the words tasting sweet with truth. “In fact, I was never yours. The way you ordered for me at every restaurant was misogynist and not at all charming. I literally had to stifle the urge to stab you with my fork every time you did it.” I sucked in a frustrated breath. “If I had a fork right now, it would be protruding from your eyeball.”
Preston’s face was red and getting redder. Usually, this would be when I stopped speaking. When I tried to apologize, when I tried to appease him. Try to escape a beating. But not now. Not with Swiss behind me.
“You are one of the most selfish people I’ve ever met, sexually or otherwise. You look so stupid in those fucking glasses, and none of your jokes are funny. I faked every orgasm you ever thought I had.”
Not a lie. I’d thought I knew pleasure with Preston. He was all I had to measure it against. But Swiss had shown me that I hadn’t even known what my body was capable of feeling.
My eyes never left Preston’s. I was aching to call him out for what a coward he was for putting his hands on me, but I knew this room was already a powder keg. I knew that on the surface, these were bad men, but I also knew in their cores, they were good. And they had some really strong opinions on how women should be treated.
As much as I would’ve loved Preston to get pummeled for once, I couldn’t risk it. Wouldn’t.
For better or for worse, he was the father of my child. And I couldn’t be sure that Swiss wouldn’t kill him if he knew the truth.
The prospect of his death did not bother me in the slightest. Until I saw what a hole it would create in my daughter.
So I pressed my mouth into a thin line. “I’m not coming home with you,” I informed him. “That place, that fucking museum, was never a home. It was never warm. I was just your trophy. Find someone new for that role.”
I knew that if he could’ve by now, he would’ve. Although there would’ve been women lining up to be with him if we had divorced, they were not the same as me. They had families, resources… They would not be whipped into submission as easily as I had. Preston had something truly evil inside of him, and I was the only person who could feed that.
My pain and fear were the only things that could feed that.
But I wasn’t afraid anymore.
“I’m done with you,” I spat.
Preston stared at me, then at Swiss who was still rigid beside me.
“Our daughter is due to come back in two months,” he said evenly. “Our daughter. The one you seem to have forgotten about.”
The words hit their mark, and I flinched at their impact.