AllFreeNovel
Share Us
One corner of Dax’s mouth curled. “It isn’t only the women inmypast who like to talk, Fowler. You have interesting sexual tastes. Perhaps the people of Redwater would like to hear all about it. Your loved ones? Not so much.”
A crimson flush stained the reporter’s cheeks. “You’re a real son of a bitch.”
“That’s not something you didn’t already know.” Dax flicked a glance at Lennie’s car. “Now, I suggest you change your tire. Maverick can help, if you’d like.”
The reporter stiffened. “I got it.”
Dax turned away from Lennie and crossed to my car with fast, determined strides. He poked his head through the open window. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Just pissed.” It was bad enough that people like Lennie had targeted Dax when he was just a boy. This particular asshole clearly didn’t feel bad about it if he had no qualms with doing it again now that Dax was an adult. “Can I not kick him or something?”
Dax’s lips slightly hitched up. “No. Let’s get home.” He pulled back and straightened. “I’ll stay close behind you.”
As we drove to the villa, I silently seethed on his behalf.Seethed.My protective instincts were dancing around my system, making me want to punch someone.
Or, more specifically, Lennie Fowler.
And other reporters like him, actually. Reporters who’d made it impossible for a young boy to live a normal life. Reporters who’d contributed to how guarded and self-restrained that boy grew up to be.
How different might Dax be if he hadn’t dealt with such harassment; if he hadn’t had to see his name and picture in shitty article after shitty article?
Not that Iwantedhim to be different. I just resented that he’d been shoved into a situation that had resulted in him developing so many self-protective mechanisms.
When we arrived at the villa, we both went straight to the living room. There, I set my hands on my hips and exhaled a heavy breath. It did nothing to calm me down.
Dax looked up from the drinks he was pouring at the liquor cabinet. “Still pissed?”
I rolled back my shoulders. “Livid.”
“Fowler spooked you?”
“What? No. I’m not livid that he tailed me; I’m livid that the press won’t let you live your life in peace.”
Something I couldn’t name flared in Dax’s eyes. Something that softened the light creases on his forehead.
“How could he have thought I’dactuallytalk to him?” I asked, incredulous.
“The women in my past saw no harm in it. Though, initially, most refused to talk. That later changed.” A glass in each hand, Dax began to make his way toward me. “Some accepted the opportunity to be a paid anonymous source, mistakenly thinking I wouldn’t find out. Others were more bold and didn’t mind having their identities exposed.”
Because, as Caelan had mentioned, they were bitter that Dax didn’t grow to care for them. It made me wonder if this was part of why Dax chose a wife who had no emotional attachment to him—there’d be no chance of such bitterness coming into play.
I stared deep into his eyes. “You know I wouldn’t do something like that, right? Even if you somehow hurt me, I wouldn’t go down that cruel road.”
He studied my face for a long moment and then pushed a glass into my hand. “I wasn’t so certain at first but, no, no I don’t think it’s something you would do.”
A knot untangled in my stomach. He might not fully trust me yet—he’d been betrayed too many times to allow himself to be so sure of someone outside of those closest to him—but he at least trusted that I wouldn’t do this one thing.
“Good,” I said. “Back to the subject of Fowler … What about his sexual tastes? What did you mean by that?”
Dax drained his tumbler. “He often takes random women home from bars or clubs and pays them to pace in front of him in only their underwear and high heels while he jerks off. He doesn’t fuck them, doesn’t even touch them. I suspect this is because, in his mind, it then isn’t classed as cheating on his girlfriend.”
Unreal. “So he’s just an ass in general?”
“Yes.” Dax tapped my glass. “Drink.”
I knocked back the whiskey, relishing the burn as it slid down my throat. “You should have let me kick him.”
“I don’t think you’ll have to worry that he’ll bother you again. But he’s right that other reporters might approach you.” Dax took my empty tumbler from me and set both on the coffee table. “I’m aware you could handle such a situation on your own, but don’t. They need to see that there’d be consequences or they’d keep coming back. So if one does try to speak to you—”
