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Biting my nail, a thought popped into my head, and I asked cautiously. I knew I was treading on thin ice with my thought, but I couldn’t let it go. I had to ask, “Your businesses associates. Are any of them women? Maybe a woman you slept with, and the relationship didn’t end well?”
“First, I don’t do relationships. The only relationship I’ve ever had is with you. I fuck, Tessa. There is and never has been any relationship but you. Second, I have never fucked a female associate. Business is business and I don’t mix the two. It’s bad for business.”
“So not a female associate, then?”
“No.”
“Then has to be a former piece you fucked.”
“Yes. That’s what the board thinks.”
I snorted. “Jesus Montana, she could be anyone, then.”
“Give me some credit, baby. I’m not that bad.” He smirked.
“Really?” I questioned. “And just how many women have you been with? Ten, twenty, fifty, a hundred. Give me a number here Montana because, from what I know of your sexual appetites, you can’t go more than two days without nutting, and you don’t keep a girl longer than two months because you get bored. You told me that yourself once. You are forty-four years old. If you started having sex, say at sixteen, then that would mean you’ve had around,” I paused, doing the mathematical calculations in my head before saying. “That’s six women a year, since you were sixteen. That’s one hundred and sixty-eight women, give or take a woman, and that’s not including your one-night stands.”
“Hey, it wasn’t that many,” he whispered mulishly. “I don’t think.”
Shaking my head, I plopped back down on the sofa. “Jesus Christ, Montana. You’re a fucking man whore and now one of your past fuck toys is making my life a living hell. Do I have that right?”
“Yeah.”
“Great,” I muttered, my anger simmering low in the pit of my stomach. I knew logically what was happening wasn’t Montana’s fault, but because of his wandering dick, I was feeling the repercussions.
That pissed me off.
I didn’t ask for any of this. I fell in love with a man. That was my crime. I just wanted to raise my son and work in my chosen field, not have the love of my life’s past metaphorically fuck me in the ass!
“What is the board going to do about this? I mean, if this person is hellbent on fucking up my life, what is she going to do to yours? What if she goes after York or your parents?”
“That’s why the board locked us down. Until they find this woman and stop her, we will each have a brother babysitting us, twenty-four seven.”
I laughed, shook my head and got to my feet once more. “That’s just fucking great!”
“Tessa, I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry? Fuck Montana, this shit has nothing to do with me. One of your fuck toy is messing with my life. My life! And because of your fucking dick, someone tried to accost me, a cop groped and molested me, and some jackass abducted me. Not to mention I was beat up, drugged and damn near raped. Why? Because some bitch has a fucking hard on for you!” I shouted, making him flinch. When my rant was over, another thought popped into my head, causing me to narrow my eyes at the worried man before me.
“Wait a fucking minute,” I stared at the scared man. “When I was being held in the warehouse, you said you knew how to find me. How?”
Montana gulped. “Was hoping you’d forget that part.”
“What part?” I asked angrily, placing my hands on my hips. Something was telling me I would not like what he was about to say. In fact, I fucking knew I wasn’t. Bracing, I said nothing as he confessed, “After I branded you, you received medical attention.”
“That’s right.”
“Well, while Storm was administering first aid, he gave you a shot.”
“Yeah, antibiotics, so I wouldn’t get an infection.”
Montana cringed, shaking his head. “He inserted a tracker. It’s embedded under the skin of your brand. I knew you were it for me. I bought a ring, was going to ask you to marry me. I needed to protect you. If someone ever took you, I needed to know how to find you. But you left, and I forgot about it, until you disappeared over the weekend. I had a member of the board turn your tracker on. That’s how I found you.”
Taking a deep breath, I stared open mouthed at the love of my life. The man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with and wondered just who in the hell was Montana Stone. Not knowing how to respond to the fact he literally has me low jacked, I quietly got to my feet and walked out of the office.
I had nothing more to say.
Over the next several days, the club brothers interrogated, fingerprinted and took photos of every inch of my body. If there was a scar, freckle, or blemish, they documented it. I had blood drawn, hair and skin samples taken and even had my biometrics entered the security system at Stone House.
