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Even though what we’d set out to do had been done.
Turns out she didn’t mind it either, so I fucked her like an animal and then carried her back into the cabin where she fiddled with her phone for a bit — I remember that specifically — before going for a shower, and I’d been hunting for a fresh pair of pants.
Which is when I saw it.
The texts.
Her: Can’t wait until you get back. We have so much to talk about.
Him: Still trying to wrap things up here. Will keep you updated on my return.
That was a week ago.
In the week that has followed, I’ve tried to put it out of my mind. I’ve tried to ignore it. Every time she picks up her phone, I’ve tried to not focus on it and wonder who she’s texting now. Why is there a fucking smile on her face? Has he updated her on his fucking return? Are they fucking making plans to meet with each other?
Mostly, what are they going to do when they do meet?
Is she going to smile at him, just the way she had back at that restaurant when I saw them together? Is he going to try to touch her? Because if he is, I’m going to fucking break every bone in every finger that makes contact with her creamy skin. Actually I’m going to break his every finger period.
And his toes.
He may be a real estate mogul approved by her daddy but I’m the Angry Thorn; I can break him into two if he so much as looks at her.
Because he is that, isn’t he? Approved by her daddy.
No, I haven’t forgotten about that. About what she’d told me at the restaurant a few weeks back, about her piece of shit father wanting her to get together with him, wanting her to mingle with him. And neither have I forgotten about the fact that she wants to stay here to escape reality, that I already know has something to do with her father.
So what, is he fucking forcing her to marry Ezra?
Is she saying no and her father is not letting it go?
Would he hurt her, hurt the baby growing inside of her, if she didn’t agree to his demands?
What is it?
What the fuck is it?
If I don’t know then how can I protect her?
So as I said, in the week that has followed, I’ve tried to not think about it but ended up obsessing over it anyway.
Which is why I’m doing this.
On the surface it may appear criminal — and yeah, it is; breaking and entering into someone’s apartment and stealing important documents is criminal — and it may also appear that I’m breaking my promise to her.
The promise that I gave her weeks ago.
About not getting jealous and letting her leave when she wants to.
But I’m not.
I want to be very clear about that. That this is not me breaking the promise.
This is me specifically taking measures to not break it.
This is me putting my obsession over this piece of shit Ezra, my jealousy — that she specifically asked me to not feel — to rest. And of course, trying to protect her from whatever danger is waiting for her in the real world. I have no intention of ever holding her to what’s about to happen here.
Why would I?
She doesn’t want anything from me — except a baby, which we’ve made — and I’ve got nothing to give her.
Even though I’m going to regular therapy sessions — with an old woman called Dr. Mayberry who watches me far too closely for my liking — I still haven’t been allowed to go back to practice. Apparently it will happen when I’ve completed a certain number of mandatory sessions.
Meaning my career is still a mess.
And frankly it’s going to remain so until I get out from under my brothers’ thumbs.
And while taking care of her and our baby girl has become my priority now rather than soccer or European league, I’m still the same guy who hurt her.
I’m still the same guy who hardly knows anything about love or softer emotions or tenderness. I still can’t give her a romance novel life.
So all of this is to protect her and get my rage under control.
Could it all turn out badly? Fuck yeah.
Could she see it as me betraying her? Also fuck yeah.
But I don’t care about that right now.
Right now, I need to do this. I need to calm the beast, clear my head, my vision that’s been painted red ever since I saw those texts. So I don’t make it worse. I don’t break the promise that she specifically asked me to make and kill Ezra.
And maybe, just maybe, I can protect her from her father in the process too.
“I need you to sign these,” I hear myself say to her.
