She shakes her head and looks at me with sparkling eyes. I push myself in between her legs and grind myself against her. She groans and those sparkling eyes become pleading. “No,” she groans. “I really have to get this done.”
“Really?” I question as my lips come back to her neck.
Her legs wrap around me and she pulls me in tighter. “Yes,” she pouts.
“What if I helped you?” I murmur against her neck. “Then can I have my wicked way with you?”
“Mmhmm,” she moans. “The second the tiles are off the floor, you can have your wicked way with me all night.”
I grin as I step back from the dazzling beauty. “Right,” I say as I grab the tools out of her hands. “This means business.”
Chapter 19
Lexi
I look around my completed bathroom and finally feel content. I mean, it’s fucking amazing. I finally have somewhere to wash my hair without feeling like I’m standing in someone else’s mess.
It’s nothing short of beautiful. I’d have to say it’s probably the best bathroom I’ve ever done. It was hard work though, but it’s definitely paid off.
I’ve been here for four months now and the only room left to do is the kitchen. If I’m smart, I’d take my time. The thought of finishing this place and having to sell it, kills me. I don’t want to move out of here. This house has actually become my home. I’ve found a life here that I couldn’t possibly leave.
Not to mention, I have a neighbor that I’m very quickly falling in love with.
Don’t get me wrong, there’s still heaps to do. I have only furnished the guest bedroom and I haven’t even touched the outdoors, so maybe I’m getting ahead of myself thinking about leaving.
It’s a Thursday afternoon and with the bathroom now complete, I’ve sent Mick home. He’s been working his ass off getting everything done. He’s always so quick, but I worry about him. He must be pushing mid-sixties and he’s been keeping up with everything I’ve asked of him.
I must admit, the bathroom has been a little easier on him seeing as though I had to hire a tiler. Tiling is way out of both of our leagues, but he was able to do the installation of the rest of the bathroom, not to mention, Luke has been popping over every now and then and just silently walks through the front door, picks up a tool, and starts helping Mick out. It absolutely warms my heart when he does it, especially when he sends me one of those panty melting winks then waits for Mick to finish for the day and takes me up against the wall.
God, just thinking about it gets me hot. The man is an absolute god.
With the weekend right around the corner, I’ve told Mick not to bother coming in tomorrow. He deserves a break, and to be honest, it will give me a chance to start removing the old kitchen before he gets in on Monday. Besides, he should take his wife out on a date. He’s always telling me how she keeps asking for a day out together.
I’ll have the whole weekend to take my time with the kitchen removal and if I time it well, I’ll also have a chance to catch up on a little Game of Thrones on my iPad. Though, I’ll have to be careful, the last time I watched that, I ended up binging on the whole series and lost way too much sleep.
With my afternoon to myself, I make myself comfortable on my new timber floorboards which run right throughout the house, apart from the bedrooms of course, which is now finished with a lush squishy carpet that feels like clouds beneath my feet.
I get myself hooked up to my drip and start flicking through the online catalogs of every furniture and homewares store in the area. I’ll have to furnish this place eventually, but I’m tossing up between hiring the furniture for show or buying it and selling the house fully furnished. Too many questions that I just can’t be bothered to answer.
Naturally, I get distracted by my phone and start scrolling through Facebook when a crash outside steals my attention. My eyebrows furrow and I get myself to my feet.
I take hold of my drip and make my way over to the window to peek out. The sight before me has my teeth grinding together.
God, I’m ashamed to admit that I ever had anything to do with this man. He’s the biggest lowlife I’ve ever met. Like, get your shit together, dude. How many times is he going to hit rock bottom before he finally decides to do something about it?
My lowlife ex-husband struggles with the door handle of his car, which is parked diagonally across the curb with my mailbox right underneath. It’s as clear as day that he’s been drinking again, though, I don’t know why I’m always surprised by it. It’s just the way he is now, especially when he decides to visit me. I don’t think I’ve seen him sober once since before I left.
I let out a breath and shake my head as I watch his appalling performance. That dumb jackass. What the hell is he doing here? When will he learn that there is nothing here for him?
I look up at my drip and notice that I still have a few minutes left before I can unhook myself and decide the fucker can wait. I flick the lock on the front door and head down to the back to do the same.
I make myself comfortable and watch out the window as the idiot stumbles up the pathway and manages to trample the only flower I have in my dodgy little garden.
After what feels like forever, he finally makes it up onto the front porch. He heads straight for the door and tries the handle. He wiggles it once, then does it again. It’s his fifth time when he realizes it’s actually locked and it’s not going to magically open.
“Alexis?” he calls through the door. “Open the damn door. I know you’re in there.”
I let out a huff but ignore him as he attempts the handle again.
For fuck’s sake.
I hear his heavy boots cross the porch as he makes his way to the window and peers in. The second I see his face, I recognize the angry set of his eyebrows. Just great. I let out another huff. This really isn’t what I wanted to deal with on my first lazy afternoon in months.
His eyes search me out and the second he sees me sitting here and ignoring him, he calls out. “Alexis,” he demands. “Open the fucking door.”
I point to my drip as though he can’t possibly see it. “I’m on my drip,” I call back. “You’ll have to wait a few minutes.”
His eyes narrow on the drip and then move back to me. He knows I’ve just given a bullshit excuse. After all, he used to be the one to help me out. He’d bring me a bowl of ice cream and a magazine every time I was on it, but that was a long, long time ago. He knows perfectly well that I’m more than capable of getting myself around with this thing.
“Fuck, Alexis,” he yells. “Open the door or I’m going to bust it down.”
“You mean like you just did to my mailbox?” I call. “You better be fixing that shit.”
“I didn’t touch your fucking mailbox,” he slurs.
“Right,” I groan, “It just magically appeared underneath your shit box car?”
He turns around and I watch as he squints towards his car and notices the mailbox buried beneath. I can practically see him thinking of something smart to say, but we all know he’s got nothing. He turns back to the window and tries to jimmy it open.
“For fuck's sake, Jeremy,” I yell as I get myself up and head towards the door. “You’re going to break it.”
“Then open the door.”
“Are you fucking blind?” I yell. “What the hell does it look like I’m doing?”
His heavy boots practically run across the porch and the second he hears the flick of the lock, he barges through the door. I step back out of the way to avoid being hit by the door and give him plenty of room. I don’t want any repeats of last time, so I’ll be playing this one smart.
“What are you doing here?” I demand.
“You know exactly what I’m doing here,” he spits. “I want my fucking money back.”
I resist groaning at the douchebag. “How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t have your money. I never had it. You drank every last cent we had. You left us with nothing and that’s exactly w
hat I went with.”
“You’re a fucking liar, Alexis,” he growls, taking a step towards me with his finger pointed out.
“I’m not lying, Jeremy. I don’t owe you a damn thing. If anything, it’s the other way around. I left you four years ago so I didn’t have to deal with this bullshit anymore. I even paid off all your fucking debt.”
“You can’t talk to me like that,” he demands. “You’re still my wife.”
“Yeah,” I grunt. “Only because you refuse to give me a divorce. You know that costs me every time I send you those papers.”
“Then stop fucking sending them,” he snaps. “You’re my wife whether you like it or not and that’s not about to change, so, you can shove your divorce up your ass.”
For fuck's sake. This man is easily the most infuriating man on the planet. I had assumed that Luke easily took out that position with his irritating little pranks, but this shit with Jeremy is a whole new level. He boils my blood and I can’t stand it.
“Jeremy, I haven’t got your money and I don’t owe you a damn thing. So, now that we have that cleared up it’s time for you to get out of my house.”
He holds his hand up and points to the ring he still wears on his finger. “You know what that means?” he starts with a sick grin. “It means that this is my fucking house too. So, why don’t you go right ahead and pack up your shit.”
My hands ball into fists as my teeth clench down hard. “Over my dead body,” I scream at him as I push myself forward. I raise my fists and bang them against his shoulders, making him stumble back a few steps in his drunken stupor. “I’ve worked my ass off to build a life after you tore it down. It’s not my problem that you’re a drunk and keep wasting your money away. Stop coming after me.” I push him again. “Everything you see here is mine and you will never get your greedy hands on it.”
He goes to say something, but I’m not nearly done.
“Here’s an idea,” I tell him. “Why don’t you sober your miserable life up, stop acting like such a fucking loser, and get your shit together. You could have had all this and more if you knew anything about self control. Look at yourself, you’re a loser, Jeremy. You don’t have a cent to your name, you’re a drunk, and a lowlife. I’m embarrassed to even admit that I used to be married to you.”
His face scrunches up in anger, but I don’t care. Finally getting the words out feels amazing. I might have taken it too far, no one deserves to be yelled at… Nope, stuff it. He deserves it.
I mean, who does he think he is coming here and trying to take my home away from me?
“You little fucking bitch,” he growls before storming forward. “You’re going to regret that.”
“I highly doubt that,” I grunt. “Now, get your sorry ass out of my home.”
He attempts to tower over me and scowls down at me. He raises his fist, but we both know he’s too chickenshit to hit a woman. Though, I might have just pushed him a little too far this time.
I want to taunt him, tell him that he doesn’t have the balls to do it, but then, this man is very different from the one I used to know. Taunting him might actually push him to do it.
“Get out,” I say trying my best at appearing big and intimidating.
His eyes narrow and in the quickest flash of a second, he pushes me hard. I fall back and come crashing down into the kitchen counter. Pain pulses through my whole body and I don’t doubt I’ll have one hell of a nasty bruise following this. I try to get myself up, but he’s right there, hovering over me. “You’ll see,” he snarls. “I’ll get what’s mine.”
He lets out a grunt before turning on his heel and walking for the door. He slams it hard behind him and I let out a hard breath. My head falls to the ground beneath me and I briefly close my eyes.
My whole body is rattled and my hands begin to shake. I can’t believe that just happened.
I know he grabbed my wrist the last time he showed up here, but pushing me? He really has changed. He’s a man that I don’t even recognize and it’s sad what he’s allowed his addiction do to him.
With my eyes still closed, I listen as his boots leave the porch and disappear into the dirt.
It’s the sound of a very familiar truck starting up that has me flying off the floor and forgetting about the pain the rockets through my back and ass. I run to the door with everything that I have and practically pull it off its hinges as I rip it open.
I dart out the front just in time to see my dickhead husband disappearing down the street in my fucking truck.
I crumble to the ground as the tears take over. “No,” I sob as I watch the tail lights fade away.
How could I let this happen? Deep down I know this is just a temporary issue. Somehow, I’ll be getting my truck back whether it’s by the help of the police or going down there armed with every ax I can find in the closest store, but the feeling of watching him take it away from me absolutely guts me. It’s like my past all over again.
For years he would just take and take and take until there literally wasn’t anything left. I was a crushed woman, and right now, watching the cycle come back around, I’m that same deflated woman I used to be.
No matter what I do, he’s never going to sign those papers and he will always hold it above my head. Always threatening to take away the life I’ve created for myself. Always threatening to destroy me again. All I know is that I can’t go back there. I can’t go back to a life of struggling day by day and watching everything I’ve done drain away.
As I sit in a heap on the dirty ground, I find the tears flowing freely from my eyes. I don’t even notice my hand digging into my pocket and pulling out my phone, but the next thing I know, I’m dialing Luke’s number, desperate to hear his voice.
Chapter 20
Luke
“Hey, man,” I say as I walk into the lunchroom at Rebels Advocate and see Jace moping around while he attempts to eat his lunch, but let’s be real, he’s just playing with it.
He’s been like this for the past week, and so far, none of us have been able to figure out why, though, we have a pretty good idea. Whenever Jace is like this, it’s usually got something to do with Cami, which means he’s probably hurt her again.
I just hope it wasn’t as bad as last time. It would have been a good year ago when he told her again that it’ll never happen between them which is the usual routine for them. It’s just that he sort of did it in front of everybody right after he kissed her.
It took her months to start coming around again. I just wish they’d sort it out already. Cami is a good girl and she doesn’t deserve to have her heart broken over and over again, but then Jace is my best friend, and to me, it’s as clear as day that he’s in love with her and they should be together. He’s just too stubborn or scared… I don’t exactly know. I just hope she can hold on long enough for him to work it out, otherwise, the past year and a half would have all been for nothing.
Jace grunts as I walk in. “What’s going on?” I ask as I head past him over to the fridge and start rifling through it until I find what I want for lunch.
“Nothing,” he says with absolutely no emotion in his voice.
I let out a nearly inaudible sigh before dropping into the seat beside him. “Seriously man,” I say. “What’s going on? You’ve been moping around for the past week.”
“I haven’t been moping,” he defends with a grunt.
“Bullshit,” I chuckle. “You’re walking around the place like you’re about to go for a rectal exam.”
He shakes his head, clearly not in the mood for joking. “It’s nothing,” he repeats. “Just the same old bullshit with Cami.”
“I thought as much,” I murmur. “How’d you break her this time?”
“Fuck off,” he grunts.
“Well?” I question.
He shakes his head, not wanting to get into it, so I let it go as that was the most I’ve managed to get out of him all week. I wouldn’t want to push my luck and end up with a black eye like I have so
many times in the past.
We have our group self-defense class this afternoon so I’m going to go ahead and assume Cami won’t be showing up for that one today which means odd numbers. Just great. We had planned for the class to work in pairs where one would act as an attacker and the other would have to defend, but I guess that won’t be happening.
“So,” I start. “What’s happening with today’s self-defense class?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “We can either act as one of the pairs or we can do groups of three and they can practice two against one with either one attacker and two defending or two attackers against one.”
I cringe as I think it over. “That’s more for the intermediate class.”
“Nah,” he says. “I think they can handle it. They’ve been improving a lot lately.”
Maybe he’s right. I have noticed a lot of improvement, especially with the ones who have been coming all year. In fact, if a brand new student was to join that beginner class, it would be out of his or her league. “Maybe it’s time to relabel them an intermediate class and start another beginner course.”
“Yeah, that’s not a bad idea,” he says.
Half an hour later, we walk out of the lunchroom after completely losing track of the time. We now have a whole new beginners’ class that we’ll be squeezing in on a Saturday morning and after a few changes to the schedule, and maybe a post on our Facebook page, we should have enough participants to get started next week.
We walk through the gym to get back to our offices so we can start making this shit happen when the sound of the door slamming open and banging against the brick wall has every single person in the club coming to a standstill as their eyes instantly zone in on the door.
Rylee comes tearing through the door with nothing but fury on her face. “Oh shit,” I grunt. Cole must have done something really bad to get that kind of reaction out of her.
Cole walks out of the front office as he sees her. “What the fuck, babe?” he grunts, but she doesn’t even notice him, her eyes practically scan straight past him before she focuses that lethal glare on Jace and storms towards him with Cole hurrying behind.
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