Page 43 of Wrong For Me


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A trash can is shoved into my face right as I start dry-heaving, nothing but acid in my stomach fighting its way out.

After a moment, a box of tissues is passed to me, and I take one, wiping my mouth before meeting the men’s stares.

“Let me save you some trouble,” I tell them, shifting to stand. “I don’t know if she knew about me, considering I didn’t know he had a wife before today. I don’t know if she is sane or crazy and would come after my dad to get back at me for touching what’s clearly hers. I don’t know if my father knew of her, but it sounds like he must have. And I don’t know why he called her minutes before his death. I know nothing other than I’m tired, worn down, and done for today.”

I take another tissue and run it under my eyes to clear them of any evidence that shows more tears have fallen. I thank the men and walk out with my head locked high in pride that I don’t feel and with strength I can’t find.

I will not break in this place.AlecMy leg won’t stop bouncing. My mind keeps screaming, and I can’t think straight. Too many questions and too many thoughts to sift through, but I can’t focus for shit. Not sure I’m answering these dickheads correctly because all my fucked up mind will show me is Rowan jumping in like a knight that he’s not, but all of a fuckin’ sudden, he wants to be.

Am I glad she had him there for her at that moment?

No.

Should I be?

Still say no.

I’m fucked up, I know, but when it comes to Oakley, I don’t care.

I’ll kill him.

If he so much as touches her in any way other than a comforting hug to help her get through this, he’s fucking burned.

No, scratch that. He doesn’t get to touch her at all.

This is some bullshit.

I drag my hands down my face, letting them hit the table with a bang. Course I was thrown in a room with two rookie officers instead of Murphy and the douche bag he’d shown up with. I thought for sure he wanted to grill me, but it seems all he wanted was a chance to talk with Oakley. Guess all my double scheming is still safe for now. Fucking kills me to know she’s in there, dealing with him by herself.

“Okay, Mr. Daniels, you’re free to go. Seems your wife’s been cleared for now.”

I shoot up from my seat and stomp for the door, and the second I step into the hall, Oakley walks around the corner.

I step forward, my jaw clenching when her muscles lock at the sight of me. “We need to talk.”

“I don’t think so.”

I fight to keep my cool when all I wanna do is throw her ass over my shoulder and get the fuck outta here. I step closer, and this time, her spine straightens.

“Oakley—”

“Stop.”

My gaze flits between hers, and I see the damage done. I hurt her; I know. But the look in her eyes tells me she thinks I’ve broken her, but she’s stronger than even she knows.

She’s Blaze through and through.

Rowan steps around the corner right then, and instantly, his glare turns hard. He slides himself between me and my fucking woman and gets in my face.

“Are you kidding me?” he seethes. “You fuck up like you did and then corner her like this?”

Reaching behind him, he gently pushes Oakley backward, stepping away with her like she’s some fragile woman who needs it.

She’s not.

Her barren eyes find mine, secretly searching for a truth I can’t show. Not here, not now. So, she finds nothing, and the disappointment she can’t cover hits me hard, right in the fucking gut.

I hate doing this to her.

“Wait, and I’ll find a way to get you home,” I tell her.

Her face scrunches in disgust. Rowan laughs humorlessly, moving closer to me.

“Go fuck yourself,” she seethes. “But you should probably clean me off before you fuck your wife.” With that, she spins around, quickly breaking for the exit, Rowan at her side.

“Oakley,” I growl, but they keep moving. “Stop.”

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the infamous Oakley Rivera.” A grating voice comes from behind me, and my fists lock tight.

Oakley and Rowan both jolt to a stop and slowly spin to face us.

“I must admit, you are much less than I expected.”

Oakley fights to keep her body steady as she slides her eyes to the woman at my side.

“For a second there, I was almost worried, but I can see now that was unnecessary.”

I stare at Oakley as she stares at her.

“I’m Marissa Daniels.”

A hand glides up my arm, and now, it’s Oakley’s jaw that clenches, her eyes fighting a war of emotions—to break or to brave it. And, like I knew it would, rage wins over everything.

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