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Trent.My guess is, he sends my woman messages when Cynthia isn’t able to monitor what he’s doing.Fucking oily bastard.
With a clenched jaw, I reach over Simone’s prone body, grabbing her cell to confirm my suspicions. For anyone else, this would grossly violate privacy. However, I either see it on her cell now, or I’ll see it when the notifications come across my computer screen when I turn it on. It’s a horse apiece, and she’s well-aware I monitor everything when it involves MC members.
I tap my thumb on the screen. Sure as shit, it’s him.
*Hey, beautiful. I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, more than I already was. Please, Simone. Meet me for breakfast at Butter My Biscuits. You can get the frittata special you love so much—I’m sure you’ve missed it. We don’t need to get into a deep discussion today. Let’s just chat like old times. I’ll be there at eight, waiting for you. Please come.*
Red fills my vision. This prick has some nerve hitting on my woman when he knows I’m in the picture.
For a half a second, I contemplate erasing the message. My thumb hovers over the delete option.
Am I really that guy? The one who’s beyond insecure and has to hide shit from his partner to keep her?
I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a liar or a sneak.
Annoyed, I toss her cell back on the nightstand.
Before, when Trent reached out to Simone, it pissed me off. I couldn’t do anything about it. She wasn’t mine. The beauty curled up with her head over my heart reminds me that’s no longer the case. Dating bullshit aside, we’ve agreed to be exclusive. She’s my everything now.
I’m tempted to send him a message, telling him to fuck off. All it will do is encourage him to find a different way to reach out to her.
No. I need to cut the head from the snake before he strikes again. The best way is to confront him. I need to be at that restaurant when Trent arrives.
A small voice in my head tells me tostop. I ignore it. My mind is on a one-track course, ready to collide into Trent with my fist.
Carefully, I slip out of bed, tucking Simone gently back in. As silently as I can, I slip on my street clothes. I’ve got two hours before it’s game time.
Normally, hanging around one spot for too long will draw attention to oneself. Lucky for me, I know how to remain inconspicuous. Seven years of Navy SEAL missions trained me well, and working three years of mercenary assignments for the MC has only helped hone my skills. Trent will never see me coming.
My hand is on the doorknob when the nagging little voice in my head tells me to take deep breaths. To calm down before I do something stupid.
For whatever reason, I listen. Inhaling through my nose and exhaling out my mouth languidly several times. The red haze in my vision dissipates, along with my erratic thoughts.
My eyes land on Simone’s still figure in the bed, snuggled into the sheets like she’d been with me. Her face is serene, something it rarely is while resting. Usually, she’s restless in her sleep, her mind never shutting out the negative events surrounding her or us. And I’d hate to be the reason for disturbing her peace when she has so little of it.
What the hell am I thinking?
As appealing as it would be to beat the piss water out of Trent, I can’t risk losing this job for the MC. More importantly, I can’t do anything to endanger my relationship with Simone. I’ve done enough desperate shit to put me on the chopping block. Any more, and she may pull the plug on us. I’d suffer a lifetime of desperate text messages from her ex to hold on to my queen.
My system remains flooded with pent-up rage—I need to dispel it. An hour in the hotel gym should help.
Quietly, I slip out of my clothes in favor of my workout gear. With a parting kiss on my woman’s brow, I head for the gym. Thirty minutes of cardio on the stairs and another thirty working my chest and back tire my muscles. However, adrenaline is still pumping through me faster than a freight train without a conductor.
Unfortunately for me, it’ll have to do. I have to get ready for another day stuck in a room with the bane of my existence.
My cell vibrates in the pocket of my sweats. Whoever it is, they can wait until I return to my hotel room. I’d rather talk in private to whomever, and I’m nearly back.
When I enter the suite, Simone is wide awake. She’s rushing around the room, tugging on her clothes in a panicked state. “Stupidly beautiful, jealous-ass caveman. I swear to God, I’m going to strangle him,” she mutters to herself as she grabs her purse.
I’m instantly on edge. “The fuck is going on?”
Simone spins, spotting me standing in the doorway. She heaves a heavy sigh, dropping her stuff on the carpet. “Thank fuck.”
Where the hell was she heading? My mind immediately jumps to Trent, asking her to breakfast. I shut the door behind me, a little harder than necessary. My emotions are on the cusp of unpredictable.
“Going somewhere, Numbers?”
“To find your sorry butt, that’s where,” she huffs, with her hands on her curvy hips.
