AllFreeNovel
Share Us
When he pulls into the driveway of a two-story brick home, I pull up to the curb and throw my door open, unfolding from the driver’s seat and moving toward him. Thankfully, he knows when to stop because he is at the base of the porch, waiting for me.
“She’s not yours to have,” I announce.
“Please don’t hurt me. My wife and kids are inside.”
Fuck.
He’s married.
Flicking my gaze down to his hand, I notice he isn’t wearing a ring. Allison probably had no idea.
“That girl give you her number?” I ask. He swallows hard, nodding once. “Delete it. You never saw her, you’ll never see her again, and if you do, I’ll be back, and I’ll fucking kill you.”
I watch as he takes his phone out of his pocket as fast as he can and starts to scroll through his contacts. He shows me her name, then shows me as he deletes it. He honestly didn’t have to do that much.
It almost makes me laugh.
Almost.
Taking a step backward, I notice a woman opening the door, peeking her head out to look between us. She’s pretty. What a fucking asshole. I turn around, walk back to my car, sink down into the front seat, and head to Allison’s.
As I drive, I can’t help but think about the guy and his pretty wife. I’m him. Not really, but I wanted to keep a woman on the side while being married to a beautiful woman. Two gorgeous creatures for myself, neither of them actually being happy or getting all of me. What the fuck is wrong with me?
Instead of going to Allison’s, I decide to find my fiancée. I’m going to talk to her. I just want to see what she’s doing. Pulling up to her place, I kill the engine and turn my lights off as I watch her building.
I’m not sure how long I sit there, maybe an hour, when she appears on the sidewalk just a few feet from me. She shifts her attention from side to side, then takes a few steps forward. Slouching down in my seat, I watch her. A car pulls up, likely an Uber or some type of rideshare.
Harlow reaches for the door handle and opens it, then sinks down in the back seat. I should let her do her thing. We aren’t married yet, but I don’t. I’m a nosy motherfucker. The car drops her off at a bar. It’s not even a club. It’s a seedy bar, and I can’t help but be beyond curious.
I follow behind her but don’t get too close. I’m too interested to see what is happening here. I shouldn’t be surprised that she immediately walks directly over to a table with a single man. He stands, and their lips touch.
I would assume this is one of the last meetings with him before the wedding. My father probably should have looked into her a bit more. Or maybe I should have before I made a decision to choose her, but I didn’t care because I didn’t give a fuck about her or what she was doing.
I’m still not sure that I do, not really. Not even a twinge of jealousy slides through my veins at the sight of her with this man. They’re holding hands, sitting so close to one another that not even a gust of wind could pass between them.
They kiss again, this time with tongue. Well, I suppose this isn’t her brother.
I’m supposed to be marrying Harlow in just a few days. We’re on a serious countdown now, but nothing about me desires any part of her. I’m trying to decide what this means exactly. Do I not give a fuck because I just don’t know her? Or is it because of Allison and the way I feel about her?
Taking my phone out of my pocket, I turn and head back to my car. I find my brother’s number and call him.
“How did you know I was getting ready to call you?” Wells asks.
“Clairvoyance,” I immediately reply, causing him to chuckle.
Instead of leading with the reason I called him, I wait for whatever he had been calling me about. His is probably more important than me waffling about women. Maybe I’m not ready for marriage. It’s clear I can’t make a fucking decision, even if I’m handed my prize on a silver platter.
“Samson and Tatum have just pulled up to a house that is clearly a safe house of some kind. It’s in a middle-class neighborhood, the yard is somewhat kept up, and nothing is flashy at all.”
Fuck.
“Do you think the women are inside?”
“Fits the MO, doesn’t it?” he asks.
It sure as fuck does. I went to that type of house, paid for slaves, and fucked them more than once.
A lot more than once.
