“I don’t want you to be afraid—”
“Yes, you do. You like me insecure and weak. That way, you can coerce me into anything and make me believe it’s what I want.”
“You’re talking crazy, Amelia. Frankly, I thought we were finally getting somewhere, but what you’re saying concerns me.”
It’s taking everything in me not to fight him off, to try to pull away again, but that’s what he wants. He loves the struggle of emotionally wrestling with his prey, of fighting for the win. I keep my arms and hands limp. “You have five seconds to let me go,” I say.
“Then what? You’ll go to the police? You’d look like a fool charging your own husband with rape.”
“Five.”
He shakes his head at me. “You’ve lost it. I don’t even know you anymore.”
“Four.”
“You’re not acting like the woman I married. You think I can’t get any twenty-year-old I want? And I was willing to take you back?”
His words sting, even if I know that’s the only reason he says them—to hurt me. Even if I don’t love him anymore. I clear my throat. “Three.”
We both startle at a knock on the door. “Amelia. It’s me.”
My breath catches. The deep voice is clear, calm.
“Andrew,” Reggie growls under his breath. He cuts his gaze to me. “Don’t say a word.”
My heart hammers. “He knows I’m in here,” I say. “We were supposed to meet tonight.”
“Amelia?” Andrew calls. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. Please open the door.”
I hear the emotion in his words. I desperately want to see his face, to tell him I need him. I open my mouth to call out, but Reggie clamps a hand over it and the other around the back of my head.
“Don’t even think about it,” he says. I could practically get buzzed off his pungent, bourbon-soaked breath. “This isn’t his business.”
“I’m not leaving, Amelia,” Andrew says, trying the handle. “Not until we talk.”
“Huh.” Reggie digs his fingers into my cheeks. “Trouble in paradise?”
I shake my head hard.
“Sure sounds like there is.” His jaw ticks as he stares behind me at the front door. I can practically see the wheels in his head turning. “Answer the door,” he says.
I widen my eyes. Andrew’ll fly off the handle if he finds Reggie in here, trying to intimidate me. Doesn’t Reggie realize how badly Andrew could hurt him?
“Tell him you don’t forgive him,” Reggie says. “Send him on his way. For good.”
I choke back a sob and shake my head again. Andrew won’t buy it. He’s too stubborn.
“And make it convincing,” Reggie says, as if reading my mind. “Because if he suspects I’m in here, he’ll come after me like he did at the flea market. I don’t think I need to tell you what’ll happen if he so much as plucks a hair off my head.”
I stare at Reggie as the truth sinks in. He does know how badly Andrew can hurt him. Andrew warned me he never wanted to cross paths with Reggie again—because he can’t afford to get physical. If he does, Reggie would press charges in a heartbeat. If not out of wounded pride, then to get Andrew out of the picture.
“I already have footage of him grabbing me,” Reggie says, calmer now. “That, plus an arrest charge, would be enough to take his daughter away.”
Bell. Footage. What? My throat closes. This is my fault. I should’ve been more aware this past month. Reggie’s fallback plan is always blackmail. Intimidation. Extortion. Of course he’s been keeping tabs on us, accumulating anything he can use. I suck in a breath as best I can with his hand on my mouth—and nod.
Reggie releases me. “I’ll be listening.”
I work out the ache in my jaw and stagger down the hall. As much as it kills me, Andrew can’t know Reggie’s here. He told me himself—he treats an asshole like an asshole, and that’s exactly what Reggie is. Andrew’s threatened to kick Reggie’s ass for less. I’ve heard it with my own ears. I have no idea how far he’d go in the heat of the moment, especially finding Reggie in my home. Reggie knows it too. I tighten the sash of my robe, inhale deeply, and open the door.
Andrew’s leaning both arms on the doorway. He looks me over. “Finally. I was getting worried.”
“Hi.” My voice is scratchy, so I clear my throat. “Sorry, I was in the shower.”
He furrows his eyebrows. “Your hair is dry.”
I touch my ends. “I mean, I was about to get in.”
“Can I come in?”
“No,” I say quickly.
He nods a little. “I don’t blame you for being upset. I’m late. Really fucking late. I’ve had a weird and shitty day, but that’s no excuse. I don’t deserve a chance to explain since I didn’t give you one, but I’m asking anyway.” His makes a fist with one hand. “Let me in for a little bit before you kick me out for good.”
I have to bite back the urge to cry. He’s disheveled, obviously upset, and I can’t comfort him. I can’t ask for his comfort. I grasp for strength. Everything in me is screaming to tell him the truth: I don’t want him to go; I need help; I don’t know if I can handle Reggie on my own. But Bell needs her father more than I do, and I can’t put them at risk. “I don’t forgive you. Please leave.” It’s as much as I can say without breaking down.
He closes his mouth, tilting his head. “What’s wrong? Why is your face so red?”
“Please, Andrew,” I say, allowing more emotion into my voice. “Just go. Don’t make this harder.”
He pleads with me, his deep-blue eyes sad, beaten down like I’ve never seen. “Just a few minutes.”
“No.”
“I rode all the way here—”
“You should learn that when a lady says no,” Reggie says behind me, “she means no.”
My heart leaps into my throat. What the fuck is he doing?
Andrew looks past me, pushing off the doorframe. “What is this?”
Oh my God. Andrew might think Reggie’s here because I invited him. “I can explain,” I say.
“There’s only one explanation,” Reggie says. He comes up behind me and grabs my ass so hard, I inhale a sharp breath. “She chose me. Didn’t you, muffin?”
Andrew looks between the two of us. “Is that true?” he asks me.
My mind is spinning. I don’t know the right answer. If I say yes, it’ll kill Andrew. But if I tell him Reggie’s blackmailing me, Andrew might snap and do something stupid. I can’t have that. From the start, Andrew and I had an understanding: hurt me now to save me later. I owe him that. My urge to protect him trumps my fear.
“It’s true,” I say with as much confidence as I can muster. “I asked him here.”
Andrew narrows his eyes. “Why?”
I don’t have to reach too deep. I know how to hurt Andrew, and that’s what I’ll have to do to get him to leave. To stay away until I can deal with Reggie. “I thought about what I said earlier, and I was wrong. I can’t be what you need,” my voice cracks, and I clear my throat, “what she needs.”
“She . . .?” Andrew asks.
My stomach drops. “Bell.”
Andrew’s jaw ticks. “I see. You can’t, or you don’t want to?”
“I don’t want to.”
“You don’t want me,” he says. “Don’t want my little girl.”
I have to look away from his scrutinizing gaze. Hot tears scald the backs of my eyes. “No.”
“Well. Fuck.” He shakes his head. “I’ve been an idiot, haven’t I?”
“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Reggie says. “You couldn’t have known it would end this way. Well, actually, you could’ve, if you’d listened to me from the start. But what’s done is done. Go on back to your little life. Amelia’s had her fun.”
Andrew swallows and drops his eyes to me. The sadness is gone, and now they’re just sharp with anger, hurt. “All right. I’ll go if that’s what you want.”
It’s not. It’s not what I want. My heart u
rges me to speak, but my brain knows better.
“But do one last thing for me, Amelia, will you?” Andrew asks. “Before I go . . .”
I can’t even open my mouth or I’ll scream. I want to launch myself into Andrew’s arms, but I’m afraid. For both of us. “What?” I rasp.
Andrew nods. “Move a foot to your left.”
My mind goes blank, confusion coming on fast. I’m sure I’ve misheard. “What?”
“Move.”
I leap aside when Andrew lunges into the apartment, grabbing Reggie by his shirt. He barrels him back into the nearest wall, and Reggie oophs like he’s had the wind knocked out of him. “How fucking dumb do you think I am?” Andrew asks, nearly rattling the walls with the deep rumble of his voice. “Did you honestly think I’d believe this? That she’d choose a scumbag like you?”
Shock freezes my limbs, keeps my mouth from doing anything but hanging open. My instinct is to pull Andrew off, but the way he’s hulking out, a full-grown man wouldn’t be able to separate them.
“Get out of my apartment,” Reggie says through his teeth, wheezing.
“This isn’t your apartment—it’s Amelia’s. You have a real bad habit of showing up places you aren’t wanted, don’t you?”
Reggie straightens, despite his obvious disadvantage. I know him. He feels cornered, and Reggie fights with words and threats, not muscles. “You should’ve taken the money. Amelia might fight and resist me, but eventually she’ll come crawling back when she needs something. Money, sex, companionship—I’m the one she’ll turn to. You’ll be a chump, but you could’ve been a chump with ten grand in your pocket.”
“Amelia’s been trying to get away from you for a year, yet you keep slinking back. Who’s the chump?”
“Fuck you,” Reggie says, spittle flying. “You’re delusional. You should be locked up. You can kiss your daughter goodbye. I’ll have you thrown in jail so fast for this—”
Somehow, Andrew grows even bigger. Toe to toe, with Reggie cowering, Andrew looks almost twice Reggie’s size. The muscles in his back tighten through his t-shirt. “You’re going to bring my daughter into this?”
“Somebody has to. You’re a fucking Neanderthal. Whoever left you in charge of a small child should be ashamed.”
Andrew raises his fist. Reggie looks more amused than afraid. This is what he wants. Once Andrew hits him, Reggie will have what he needs to take him down.
I grasp Andrew’s bicep, pulling it with all my strength. “Bell,” I cry out.
He pauses.
“Think of Bell. Don’t make this mistake.”
After a few tense seconds, he drops his fist but keeps ahold of Reggie’s shirt. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” Andrew says. “You’re going to go home, sign the divorce papers, and hand them over to your lawyer.”
Reggie scowls. “Says who?”
“Me. From this moment forward, you’ll stay away from Amelia. You won’t have a choice, since she’ll be getting a restraining order—”
“She wouldn’t—”
“She would, she will, and if that isn’t enough to keep you away, then I’ll have to do the job myself.”
Reggie eyes him. “Is that a threat?”
“You think I’m a Neanderthal? Just wait. My friends are nearing middle age, and they’re just itching to prove they’re as tough as they used to be. Don’t think they’d have any problem proving it on you.”
Reggie turns to me. “Are you hearing this? This is the kind of man you want to get mixed up with?”
I could never explain to Reggie how Andrew is ten times the man he is. Money and status mean nothing to him compared to family, love, security. The confidence Andrew wants to give me is far more valuable.
Reggie wriggles, and Andrew lets him go. “Get out,” Andrew says.
“You have balls now, but just wait,” Reggie says. “I have what I need to take both of you down. Even you, Amelia.”
I feel Andrew’s eyes on me, but I keep mine on Reggie. Reggie’s been circling this all night, so I face it head on. “What do you have?” I ask quietly.
“It’s me or him. This is your last chance. If you aren’t my wife, you’re my enemy. Decide.”
I start to remind him that this isn’t about either of them—it’s about me. Whether or not I choose Andrew and Andrew chooses me back, I will never return to Reggie.
Reggie holds up a hand. “Before you respond, know this. Avec and I come together. Without me, there’s no avec. That’s how I bring you down.”
THIRTY-ONE
Andrew and I go completely still, as if a vacuum has sucked the air right out of the room. I’ve been white-knuckling avec like a rope in a tug-of-war for a long time, trying to keep the bigger half on my side. I’ve built it from the ground up. It defines me. It’s a piece of me so large, it’s taken over every aspect of my life.
I no longer know if I want it because I love it, or because I’m afraid of who I am without it.
Now, I might be forced to find out.
“We’ll fight it,” Andrew says.
I blink out of my daze. “How? He has money. Power. Attorneys.”
“I don’t care. We’ll find a way.”
“I have more than that,” Reggie says. “I have you on tape, screwing another man in my kitchen while you’re still legally married to me. I have that same man threatening me in a crowded place and then again in front of his daughter.”
My heart drops. “How?” I ask, but I know the answer. I shouldn’t have underestimated Reggie. Nothing is too far if it means getting what he wants. He’d hired a private investigator often enough while we were together to track people who’d wronged him. I wouldn’t be exempt from that just because I’d loved him once.
Andrew’s chest rises and falls as he glares at Reggie. “You’re sick.”
“Maybe, but at least I’m not stupid. Amelia had a whole year to gather evidence against me for the divorce, and what has she got? Nothing.”
“Because I trusted you,” I say, covering my stomach as it drops. Gathering evidence. Reggie has invaded my home—my privacy. And Andrew’s. It didn’t occur to me he’d take it this far. “I never suspected . . .”
“You do anything with those videos,” Andrew says, “and we’ll—”
“What?” Reggie asks. “You can’t touch me. Not physically. Not financially.”
Andrew goes quiet. He can touch Reggie, and do a great deal of bodily damage, but not without serious consequences.
“I know things about you,” I say. “I may not have evidence, but I know things.” His secrets are at least a year old, but he’s been fucking people over all his life. Surely there’s someone with more power than him that he’s pissed off. Reggie opens his mouth, but I cut him off. “Don’t worry—I’m not going to do anything. I’m not going to go to your old clients and tell them they’re knee-deep in an investment scheme or to the FBI to suggest they look a little closer at your taxes. My integrity is more important than revenge. Andrew and I are above your petty threats.”
“You can’t prove any of it,” Reggie says. “But it doesn’t need to come to that anyway, Amelia. You can still fix this. I haven’t done anything permanent. Come back to me, and you can erase the evidence yourself.”
“Fuck off,” Andrew says. “She’d be better off getting wrongfully slandered than entering into another abusive relationship with you.”
“Why don’t you let her answer for herself,” Reggie says, sounding mildly amused. As if he expects me to buckle because of what he’s told me tonight.
“Ignore him,” Andrew says. “He doesn’t have shit.”
I frown at Andrew. “I think he does.”
“Then we’ll fight it, like I said.” He watches me closely, his dark eyebrows gathered, his forehead creased with concern. He truly believes he and I have a chance against Reggie, and he cares enough about me to try. Even if it means putting himself in the middle of it. He’s wrong to think we can take Reggie on, but knowing he’s behin
d me gives me renewed confidence—in us and in myself.
I turn to Reggie. “You win. Although I guess it really depends how you look at it.” My throat is dry as a desert. I wish I knew in my gut if this was the right decision, but I don’t. All I know is that no business is worth this disillusioned, washed-up asshole’s manipulation. And it’s certainly not worth putting Andrew and Bell in the center of it. “You can have avec.”
Andrew steps closer to me. “Amelia.”
I shake my head, still staring at Reggie. “It’s okay. I’ll start again. I’ll do something bigger and better. Or maybe I won’t. But it’s my choice. I don’t know what you want with a fashion and beauty business—maybe you just need to run it into the ground to feel like a man, or to spite me, and that’s very sad. Take the alimony and the apartment too. I’ll give you everything; I’ll let you keep every cent. You’ll need it when you end up alone, having to live with the person you’ve become.”
Both men’s eyes are on me, and for the first time in a long time, at least where work and Reggie are concerned, a sense of calm settles over me. I loosen my grip, physically, uncurling my fists, and figuratively. I accept defeat. Though I love my business, there are more important things in the world, and part of me sees, like a pinprick of light on a dark horizon, that letting go of something leaves me constantly drained, could be a good thing.
“You’re going to choose a man you’ve known for weeks over your husband. Your business?” Reggie asks. “Things you’ve invested years of your life in?”
“I’m choosing myself. You may have every material thing that means anything to me, but I’m richer than you’ll ever be.” Andrew’s presence is strong beside me, and I take his hand. “And yes. I choose him too.”
Reggie raises a red, meaty hand. I don’t know what he intends to do with it, but I don’t find out. Andrew shoves him backward toward the door. “Do what you have to do,” he says. “But get the fuck out. Now.”
The First Taste (Slip of the Tongue Book 2) Page 32