And I saw desperation in her voice.
“I can take care of myself and my boy if you just leave,” she pleaded to me. “If you pretend that you never saw me. That you know nothing of this house.”
The look in her eyes I think is what convinced me to listen to her, you know?
I remember getting in the car and driving off.
But I didn’t go back home. I just kept driving. Left Los Angeles. Ended up in Vegas that night where I emptied our bank accounts the next morning, and moved all the money into a separate, new account.
I found a guy who changed my last name from White to Roman and made me an entirely new social security number and even gave me a 720 credit score.
Then I drove off.
I kept driving until I reached New York.
It was as far away from Robert as I could go.
And I started Man Chasers LLC. I don't know why I went out hunting for cheaters. Why the sole purpose of my job was to bring misery to men.
But it felt good. It felt damn good.
And now, either I go on the run again, or I sacrifice everything and everyone I’ve come to love to stay standing.
But I can’t just think about me.
I need to think about my baby. His baby.
No, it doesn’t sound right, does it?
I need to think about our baby.
And as soon as that comes into the picture, I know exactly what I need to do.
I know exactly why I can’t keep running anymore.
No.
It’s time to fight back. It’s time to show just how strong I can be.
The whole Brittney that runs away and is too weak—I left her in Los Angeles. The Brittney in New York City? She’s a bad fucking bitch.
But before I do anything, I need to tell Ethan.
The truth.
For real this time.
Ethan
“Ethan?” There’s a knock on the door, and then Brittney steps inside my office. She wasn’t supposed to be around this soon, and the expression on her face tells me that something’s up. And I have a feeling that I won’t fucking like that something.
“Hey, you okay?” I ask her, getting up from my chair and going around the desk. I place my hands on her hips and pull her into me, brushing my lips against hers. She kisses me back, but her whole body is tense. “What’s going on, babe?”
“I… I need to tell you something,” she starts, fear and anxiety in her voice.
“You know you can tell me anything, Brittney. I love you,” I tell her with a smile, tucking a lock of her hair over her ear. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“I know that Cheryl doesn’t trust me… Because she thinks I came here to steal your prototype,” she starts, her voice quivering