Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
“You think I’m leaving her with you?” Dan says on a snort of disbelief.
Did that prick just fucking challenge me? With a shitty tone, a sarcastic laugh, and by physically coming at me? I lift a foot, clench my fists, suck back air . . . and place my foot back down.
Calm. Give me calm.
Taking Ava’s arm, I make my point in a way that doesn’t involve caving her brother’s face in. “You don’t mind if I take my wife home, do you?”
“Yes, actually.” Another step forward. Everyone needs to pray for Dan. “I do.”
“Dan,” Ava says on a rush, not fighting my hold. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Just go. All of you, please, just go.”
Everyone remains static—the only thing moving on any of them is their eyes. Even Drew and Sam. I know Sam wouldn’t mind ripping Dan a new arsehole, but I can see he’s concerned that I’ll go further.
“What the fuck do you think I’m going to do?” I bellow. “This woman is my fucking life.” I feel Ava jump in my hold, and Kate backs up. Dan, though? He flinches, although tries to hide it, but the steely fucker remains in place. I need to calm the hell down, the temperature of my blood feeling like it could burn its way through my flesh and have me bleeding out.
Ava pulls herself from my grip, breathing heavily, looking around the group. She doesn’t know what to do. So she takes the wine in Kate’s hand and knocks it back, grabs her purse, and faces me, her expression challenging. Every time I think she’s pushed all the buttons I have, she goes and finds another. I can’t talk. Can’t yell. So I give her a dark look I pray she takes notice of.
She doesn’t. “Don’t bother following me,” she seethes, matching my look as she storms off, giving me a little shove as she does. I can’t work out who’s fuming more right now.
I touched another woman’s arse.
She kissed another man.
Definitely me.
She just has to go one better.
The look Ava just hit me with, I pass on to her brother behind me, as well as everyone else. Leave us alone.
I go after Ava. She’s so obviously trying to walk in a straight line as she marches away. How much alcohol has she had? Too much. I frown as she moves closer to the curb, her heels wobbling. The headlights of a car make me shield my eyes, putting black dots in my vision.
Jake! Jake, get out of the road! Jake!
Bang!
His limp body catapults into the air.
And lands yards away.
No. Please, no.
I flinch, coming back into my body with a violent jolt. Jesus Christ. I move fast, grabbing Ava and putting her on my shoulder where she’s safe. “Don’t step out into the fucking road, you stupid woman.”
“Fucking hell, Jesse, put me down.”
“No.” Not on her fucking life, because, clearly, she doesn’t have as much respect for it as I do.
“Jesse,” she cries. “You’re hurting me.”
Hurting? I’m hurting her?
I put her down and check every inch of her. “You’re hurt?” I ask. “Where?” Wait, did she roll her ankle? Did I catch her somewhere when I picked her up?
“Just there,” she yells on a broken sob, smacking her hand on her chest.
Oh. Her heart?
“Join the fucking club, Ava,” I roar, thumping mine too, forcing her to take a few backward steps. I reach for her, missing when she turns and stomps off, this time less wobbly. The emotions are sobering her up. I fucking hate the sight of my wife drunk. Hate that we have only ever rowed when she’s been under the influence.
“The car is this way,” I call, going after her but halting when she abruptly stops. Then she turns slowly and comes back toward me. “I don’t like your dress,” I mutter when she’s passing me.
“I do.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I knew you wouldn’t,” she screams, right in my face as she swings around. I hate that I know her so well. She’s predictable but completely unpredictable.
“You’re right!” I fucking hate it, and I hate us right now. This is not how it’s supposed to be, not after getting married. Not ever.
“Good,” she huffs. “Is that the only reason you’re pissed, or is it because I’m drunk, or is it because I kissed another man?”
Oh, hold me back. “All of the above,” I hiss. “But kissing another man gets the fucking gold.”
“You had your hand on another woman’s arse!”
“I know!” But a kiss?
“Why?” she snaps. “Getting bored of keeping it for just one woman?”
I recoil, injured. What the hell is she saying? “You fucking asked for it, woman.”
“Me?” she gasps. “How?”
“You left me,” I yell, trembling. “You promised you would never leave me.” She broke a promise. She left me. She came out on a Friday night wearing a scrap of material as a dress, drank in excess, flirted, and kissed another fucking man. Don’t tell me her transgressions aren’t topping mine.