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Consumed with memories of Rae I let out a shaky breath and tried not to let all my regrets and stupid choices convince me to walk away. In the background played a rock version of “The One That Got Away” from my phone. I wasn’t sure how that song made it onto my playlist, but I’m pretty sure this was some kind of sick joke from one of my brothers and really shitty timing.
Sighing and gathering my courage, I glanced up at her balcony one last time to see if she had gone inside. Instead, I was witness to some asshole pull her into his arms and force a kiss on her lips.
What the fuck?
Who was this motherfucker and why the hell was he kissing my girl?
Off my bike in two seconds flat I ran for her building and slipped into the reception area right as a couple was leaving. I barely acknowledged their look of surprise as I darted past and sprinted for the stairs, not even bothering to wait for an elevator.
That’s the fastest I’ve run in a long time, but I wasn’t short on breath. Oh no.
I was short on fucking temper.
Stomping down the hall to her apartment in my heavy, clunky boots, I pounded on the door as it swung open and slammed against her wall with a loud crack. The air sizzled with my anger as I headed right for the tall fucker who was touching my old lady. Without a single thought in my head other than he was going down, I swung a meaty fist and connected with his jaw so hard I laid him the fuck out. I enjoyed the thud of his body hitting the ground a little too much.
“Get away from my fiancé you bastard!”
“What the hell are you doing here Edge?” he was down but not out, his hand on his jaw as he tested it, groaning lightly in pain.
Good.
“I could ask you the same thing. Since when do detectives and RICO agents show up and make house calls? How long have you been coming here and making a move on my girl?” I loomed over him menacingly absolutely certain I would end up hitting him again when he answered.
“Damn Edge she’s single. You aren’t together and haven’t been in years. What did you think was going to happen?” Yep, he was going down a second time.
I darted forward to hit him again, but Rae jumped in front of me and slapped her hands on my chest, pushing hard. It was sort of cute how she thought she could stop me. Pissed but slightly distracted by the feel of her soft hands on my body, I growled, “Get out of my way Rae.”
“No. Who the hell do you think you are Peter Harding?” her voice was high and borderline screeching, but I didn’t care. I was settling this shit here and now. My girl. My old lady.
And she was going to accept it even if I had to stay here all fucking night to convince her.
“You’re fiancé,” I retorted, watching as shock filled her eyes and then blazing anger.
Shit, this was going to be bad.
“My fiancé? You bastard!”
Chapter 38
“You bastard!” I yelled, shoving his chest away after the initial shock and joy of seeing Peter returned. “What the hell Peter? You haven’t been here –”
His lips crashed down on mine and I froze, completely engulfed with memories – his scent, his touch, his strong grip, and that raw, sexy look of possession and fierce attraction in his eyes.
Pete pulled me close into his strong and capable arms, his embrace locking and preventing me from escape, “I’ve fucked up Rae, and I’m sorry but please, listen to what I have to say.”
“Why should I listen to any of the lies that come from your mouth?”
He sighed, “Baby, I don’t lie.”
I didn’t want to give him another chance or remain in his arms where my brain turned to mush, and I couldn’t form a coh
erent thought to save my sorry ass if the world depended on it. “Peter, you left me. You abandoned me,” I accused, tears filling my eyes at the sudden unexpected rush of emotion that churned through my body like a tidal wave. His presence always made my emotions surge.
“I didn’t abandon you, Rae, baby I swear it.”
“Yes, you did. You had your chance and refused to take it. And don’t call me baby,” I glared at him, determined not to fall prey to his hypnotic gaze. “Besides, I’m seeing someone.”
I noticed that Paul smiled in his direction but headed for the door when Peter stiffened, and a snarl curled the left side of his mouth upward, “The fuck you are. You’re mine, Rae. You got that? Mine!” He shouted, rattling the pictures on the walls of my apartment.
