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“He’s into you, and you clearly feel the same but he doesn’t want you to.”
That made me laugh. Fender isn’t into me. He spent all these years ignoring me, and every time I entered a room, he made it clear that he didn’t want to be around me.
I shook my head at his silly theory. “The man hates me. He probably just wanted to scare me because of what happened that night at the clubhouse.”
Jagger raised a brow. “What happened at the clubhouse?”
I opened my mouth but quickly closed it. I couldn’t tell him.
“Remi.”
“I don’t want to tell you.”
“But you will. Tell me what happened.” He wasn’t asking politely, and the more I fought it, the more he’d push.
I crossed my arms and looked to the side, sighing at his persistence. “I caught him having sex with some woman in one of the bedrooms at the club. I was drunk. I just stood there and watched. He probably just wanted to punish me for that.”
“Well, shit.” He laughed, and I watched him closely as amusement washed over his face. “You know I love you and I hate to say this…but that moment might’ve been what set him off in the first place, and he’ll keep taunting you until he’s satisfied. And that will take a while. Unless you give in.”
Chapter 12
REMEDY
I tried not to think too much about Jagger’s words, and I was glad they were all gone for a few days.
Still, Fender’s touch lingered on me, and the past three nights I had found myself sliding my hand into my panties, playing with myself at the thought of his fingers inside of me.
I hated how much space he took up in my mind. Then again, I let him. He occupied my thoughts and he wasn’t even around.
I dragged myself out of bed and headed downstairs to make myself breakfast, and to my surprise, I was met with Woodrow standing there, holding Myra in his arms.
“You’re back,” I said, taking in the scene of him holding his daughter which was an unusual sight. “Where’s Agnes?”
“Out shopping.”
I nodded and eyed Myra to make sure she was okay. She had been crying. Her eyes were red and her nose running. “Want me to take her?”
“No.”
Okay.
I went to the fridge and grabbed the milk, then filled a cup and set it onto the table. There wasn’t much food left, so I settled for a banana which was already turning brown.
“No work today?” Woodrow asked.
“No. Alistair said I should take the weekend off.”
He gave me a nod. “Did Jagger call you?”
I frowned. He was acting strange. “No, why?”
He didn’t reply.
This was a weird conversation.
I started eating my breakfast, smiling at Myra every time she looked at me. Poor baby. Whenever I looked at her, I saw myself in my father’s arms. The childhood she’d have wouldn’t be the same as others, but with a dad like Woodrow, he’d soon learn that she had no choice.
This was her life. She was born into a world full of crime and violence, and I wished for her to never have to experience bad things.
