Bouncing Back (Wilde's Book 10)

by L. A. Witt

  “Good.” Liam met my gaze, offering a subtle nod. To Samir, he said, “Is there anything else we can do to help?”

  Samir didn’t look at either of us. “No. Thank you, though. For everything you have done.”

  Liam grimaced. It was his I wish I could do more face. I knew that look, and I knew the feeling. He swallowed. “If you want them, I’ve got numbers and websites for people who can help. Support groups, things like that.”

  Samir sat up a little. “I think I’m okay. I just need to tell him it’s over. Between the cheating and…” He shuddered. “I need to call things off with him.”

  “Do you want someone there with you?” I asked before I could stop myself.

  Samir looked at me, eyebrows climbing his forehead.

  I shifted my weight. “So he knows you mean business. And just in case he tries anything stupid.”

  “It’s worth considering,” Liam said. “I had two bouncers with me the day I told my ex off. If there’s anything we can do to help—any of us—just say the word.”

  Samir glanced back and forth between us. “Wow. Um. Thank you. That’s, um, I really appreciate it.” He pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll be all right, though. I mean, thanks for the offer, but I can handle him.”

  “Are you sure?” Liam asked.

  Samir nodded. “Yeah.” He managed a weak smile, and I couldn’t help thinking he must be absolutely beautiful when smiled for real.

  I curled a fist at my side. Few things pissed me off more than realizing how much of someone’s light had dimmed thanks to an abusive partner, and I suddenly wanted to break a few of his asshole boyfriend’s bones. From the way Liam’s jaw was working, I wasn’t the only one.

  Liam glanced at his watch. “I guarantee Julien and Casey have booted him out of here by now. You’re probably safe to head out if you want to.” He paused. “Elliott can take you to your car if you feel safer.”

  Samir glanced at me. “You don’t mind?”

  “Not at all.”

  Chapter 2

  Samir

  I hated the idea of needing an escort out to my car, but now that I’d pissed off Jesse, a little caution didn’t hurt.

  I stepped out into the parking lot with Elliott the bouncer on my heels, then paused. Scanning the lot and what I could see of the two streets—Broadway and whatever cross street this was—I searched for any signs of Jesse. His car had been parked several spaces from the front, like he’d gotten here before business had really picked up, and it was gone now. Someone had already taken his spot, too.

  Question was, where was Jesse?

  I shivered, then took in a deep breath of the cooling night air. If he was at my house, I’d call the cops. Plain and simple.

  Should’ve let the club do that. He could’ve spent tonight in jail.

  But the manager had had a point—what happened once Jesse got out of jail? Roughing up your boyfriend in a club after he busted you cheating wasn’t exactly a capital offense. Being the boyfriend who busted you and had your ass dragged off to jail, however, was definitely an offense worthy of one hell of a temper tantrum. So unless I wanted to juggle more dental bills alongside my crippling student loans, it was best not to poke the grizzly any more than I already had tonight.

  The door opened behind me, letting out the noise of the club, and I stood aside to stay out of the way. Elliott did too.

  But it wasn’t someone leaving or coming out for a smoke.

  It was that spiky-haired twink who’d had my boyfriend’s—ex-boyfriend’s—hand down his impossibly tight pants.

  He stopped, looking right at me but still drawing back a little. I was at least a head taller than him, but no one had ever described me as particularly intimidating. Not unless they were being racist, anyhow.

  “Uh.” He cleared his throat. “Hey.”

  Beside me, Elliott looked back and forth between us, but said nothing.

  I gritted my teeth. “Hey.”

  The kid gulped. “Listen, I just wanted to apologize. I didn’t know he had a boyfriend.”

  “Yeah, I don’t imagine he mentioned me on his Grindr profile.” In fact, I knew he didn’t, because I’d found the fucking thing. “He probably didn’t mention his temper, either.”

  The kid’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “You didn’t see what happened in there?” I pointed at Wilde’s.

  “I…” His eyes flicked toward the door. “I mean, he…”

  “That was nothing.” I exhaled. “Listen, sweetheart. Do yourself a favor.” I pointed past him at the club. “Go in there and fuck someone who isn’t Jesse.”

  His eyes widened.

  I didn’t wait for him to say anything else but continued into the parking lot.

  When Elliott fell into step behind me, I remembered that Jesse might still be here. My heart skipped, and I slowed down.

  “You all right?” Elliott asked.

  I nodded. “Nervous.”

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  “You guys must think I’m an idiot.” I folded my arms loosely across my chest as I continued scanning the parking lot while I walked. “Being afraid of my own fucking boyfriend.”

  “Like I said, Liam’s ex roughed him up a lot too. It was pretty bad.”

  I shuddered. “And he’s gone now? The ex?”

  “Yeah. The guy did a little time in jail, but he hasn’t bugged Liam since he got out.” He paused long enough for us to take a few steps before he added, “And now Liam’s happily married to a great guy.”

  “Oh. That’s… That’s good. Good for him.” I envied the man. Especially for being smart enough to end it with his ex and not move on to another abusive asshole. Apparently some of us were slower learners than others. Maybe the third time would be the charm, but I wasn’t holding my breath.

  I was so lost in my own thoughts, I almost walked right past my car but skidded to a stop just in time. Elliott nearly stumbled into me, and he grabbed my shoulder to steady us both.

  He jerked his hand back. “Sorry.”

  “No, it’s okay.” I laughed self-consciously. “I guess I could’ve given you some warning.”

  “It’s all right.” He smiled, and I decided I loved his smile. In fact, now that I actually looked at him, he was really attractive. He was a white guy, probably in his late thirties or early forties—he had a few grays in his short black hair and a few lines on his face. As if his blue eyes weren’t gorgeous enough on their own. I liked the curve of his lips and tried not to think too much about what they’d feel like against mine, so I tore my gaze away and gave him the subtlest down-up I could.

  The rest of him was sexy too. The tux shirt and cummerbund certainly didn’t hurt—not that his narrow waist or broad shoulders needed any help. He was almost my height, and not enormous like some of the other bouncers, but definitely not someone I’d have fucked with.

  Someone I could be persuaded to fuck, though.

  Heat rushed into my cheeks, and I cleared my throat as I looked away. Yeah, it was time to break things off with Jesse. I’d never cheat, but now that I knew he was, I was already itching to start casting my net. And a sexy guy in a tux shirt and bowtie? Seemed like as good a place as any to start.

  Elliott muffled a cough and nodded toward the car. “So, uh, this one’s yours?”

  “Yeah.” I took my keys out of my pocket, letting them jingle. “Thanks. Again. I really appreciate this.”

  “Don’t mention it. That’s what they pay me for.”

  Right. Right. This was his job. I’d been sitting right there when his boss had sent him out here with me.

  Is it really too much to ask to find a nice guy who’ll walk with me for free?

  “Well, I should go.” Before I get too depressing and maudlin. “My cats are probably destroying my house.”

  Elliott laughed. Oh God. He was so fucking beautiful. “Okay. Well. Take care.” He sobered, brow pinching as he held my gaze. “And the offer’s still open—you need anyone there wh
ile you’re booting him out, you know where to find us.” He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. “Any time, okay?”

  I forced a smile. “Thank you.”

  He waited until I was in the car and had the engine running. Then, and only then, he headed back toward the club.

  With way too many emotions tangling in my chest, I stole one last look at him before I pulled out of the parking lot and left Wilde’s behind.

  For a few blocks, I watched the rearview almost as much as I watched the road. I was certain that, at any moment, Jesse’s car would appear behind me. Somewhere in this city, probably not far from here, he was pissed off, and I was going to hear about it. Always did. Tonight it was bound to be a lot worse than usual. There was cold comfort in knowing he wouldn’t be spending the night in a jail cell, getting even angrier. The fewer offenses I’d committed, the better this would play out.

  I hoped.

  ~*~

  Jesse’s car never materialized behind me, and when I got home, I understood why—he was parked in my driveway.

  I should call the cops. I need to call the cops. I promised myself I’d call the cops.

  I…

  Knew damn well I wasn’t calling the cops.

  Stomach roiling, I pulled in beside him. He got out of his car. I got out of mine.

  And the second our eyes met, my heart sank. Fuck, I would’ve preferred his angry face. That look he gave me whenever he was a breath away from losing his temper. It scared the hell out of me, especially since I knew what could happen when that thread snapped, but damn if it wasn’t easier to face than this.

  “I’m so sorry, Samir.” His lips pulled tight and his eyebrows were knitted together. It was hard to tell in this light, but I was pretty sure there were tears in his eyes. If there weren’t now, there would be soon. “Can we talk about this?”

  I gritted my teeth as I locked my car doors. “I need to go to sleep. I have to be at the clinic early tomorrow.”

  “I know. I understand.” He took a deep breath through his nose and squared his shoulders. “But just for a few minutes? Just to talk?”

  I was about to tell him no when my dog’s deep, booming bark made him flinch. “Okay. But let’s talk inside. I need to feed Shouka.”

  Jesse gulped. He must’ve been determined, though, because he nodded and followed me up the front steps.

  Shouka was on the other side of the door, barking gruffly, nails skittering on the foyer’s hardwood. When I pushed open the door, she jumped up, whining happily as her rump wiggled with the wagging of her tiny tail. Usually, I gave her a quiet command to sit and hush, but this time I let her jump on me a few times just to remind Jesse that there was a hundred-plus pound rottweiler to contend with. He’d never laid a hand on me while Shouka was in the house, and I’d learned to exploit that whenever I could.

  Once she’d made my point, I hushed Shouka and sent her into the kitchen. While Jesse closed the door, I followed the dog and started going through the motions of feeding her. Though Shouka was young and still in training—hence why she hadn’t yet learned not to jump on me when I came home—she was pretty well behaved. She sat patiently where the carpet ended and the linoleum began, panting happily while I opened the can.

  My cats were MIA, which meant they were probably causing chaos in some other part of the house. Such was life with a pair of Bengals. Normally, I’d go make sure they were both accounted for—and whatever havoc they’d wreaked in my absence was cleaned up—but I wasn’t going anywhere near the bed until Jesse was gone. I wasn’t giving him any ideas.

  Jesse gave Shouka as wide a berth as possible as he slipped into the kitchen with me. “So, uh. We need to talk. About tonight.”

  As if our problems had started tonight.

  “Okay. Let’s talk.” I took the top of the can off, tossed it in the trash can, dumped the contents into Shouka’s dish, and mixed it with some kibble. As soon as I put it on the floor and gestured at it, Shouka bounded across the kitchen and dove in.

  Jesse squirmed. “Could we maybe do this in the living room?”

  I nodded. It wasn’t the bedroom, at least, and if Shouka heard anything, she’d be in there in a heartbeat.

  Normal couples don’t need a rottweiler on standby to have a conversation.

  Normal couples also didn’t have to make up red-faced excuses about “getting carried away last night” to explain suspicious marks or use their cats as scapegoats for broken possessions. My cats were troublemakers, as all Bengals were, but they’d had nothing to do with replacing a glass coffee table, a flat screen TV, or a laptop computer in the last eighteen months. They also hadn’t been the reason Shouka had broken the back door off its hinges trying to get into the house.

  As I sat down on the couch beside Jesse, I swallowed the sick feeling in my gut. There was nothing normal about our relationship. I’d known that for a long time. And yet, somehow, I kept circling back to my customary place under his thumb.

  Jesse put his arm around my shoulders. I stiffened but didn’t dare pull away.

  “Listen,” he said. “Tonight was kind of a wakeup call. That we need to fix things.”

  I gritted my teeth and stared at the coffee table. Hardwood this time. Not glass. It would be a lot tougher to break. “How long have you been seeing him?”

  “I just met him tonight. But that’s not the point.” He squeezed my leg. “I wouldn’t have cheated if things had been okay with us, you know?”

  “So what’s not okay with us?” Oh please do enlighten me.

  “We’re just in a rut, that’s all.”

  “A rut?” I turned him, trying not to let his puppy dog eyes make me puke on his lap. I’d regret that. “Jesse, we agreed to be monogamous.” In fact it was your idea.

  “I know, but things have… I mean, you’re working such crazy hours. I never see you.”

  Ah. There it is. My fault.

  I swallowed. “So what do you suggest we do?”

  “Is there any way you can scale back your hours?”

  Shifting my gaze back to the table, I tamped down the anger in my chest. Flying off the handle wouldn’t do any good. Lesson learned the hard way. “You know I can’t.”

  “What do you think we should do, then?”

  I took a deep breath. Then I pushed myself up, letting his hand slide off my leg, and I stepped around the coffee table under the pretense of needing to pace. Arms folded across my chest, I started back and forth across the path I’d worn in the carpet. I wasn’t even a pacer—it had just become a convenient excuse to not stay on the couch with him.

  Shouka came into the room and flopped down in front of the TV stand. I stopped to pet her, and I swore she was staring at me like “say the word and I’ll fuck him up.” Or maybe that was just what I wanted to see. What I needed to see. And there probably was some truth to it, too—she was the sweetest dog I’d ever had, but she was also fiercely protective of me. I just didn’t want her to attack him because in my line of work, I knew all too well what happened to dogs who’d bitten humans, and it didn’t matter why.

  I gave her another quick head scratch, then went back to pacing.

  “Samir.” Jesse’s voice was shaking. Much more of this tension, he’d probably break down crying, and I silently begged him not to. Tears were one of the few Achilles’ heels I still had with him. He knew it, too. “Please. Just tell me what we can do to fix this.”

  You could start by not being a cheating bastard.

  Maybe a few anger management courses while you’re at it.

  Oh, and go back in time and erase all those cuts, bruises, the cracked tooth, and both concussions.

  Then we’ll talk.

  I took a deep breath and faced him. “Maybe it’s time we just let it go.”

  “Let it—” He sat up straighter, eyes huge. “Like, split up?”

  I nodded because my mouth had suddenly gone dry. My heart could not possibly have pounded any harder.

  “No.” Shaking his head,
he stood, and I cringed inwardly as he came around the coffee table. He gave Shouka a wary look, then wrapped an arm around my waist. “We can make this work. We just need to spend more time together. That’s all.”

  I forced myself to look him in the eye and not allow one iota of fear to show. “Are you going to cut your hours?”

  He blinked, then laughed. “You know I can’t do that.”

  “What makes you think I can?”

  “You own the clinic. You make the hours and the rules.”

  “Yes, and I also need to be there to see patients. If I could afford to hire another doctor to pick up some of the slack, I would, but I can’t.” I shrugged. “I just can’t, Jesse. I’m sorry.”

  He exhaled hard. “Okay, well, maybe we should consider spending more of our off-time together. We’ve talked about moving in together. Maybe we—”

  “Jesse.” I shook my head and carefully extricated myself from his grasp. “If we’re not in a good place, moving in together isn’t going to fix anything. And I mean, you’d be miserable living with Shouka.” I gestured at my dog for emphasis, and she slurped my hand.

  Jesse scowled. “So you’d pick your dog over me?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “My dog is non-negotiable.”

  “But I’m not?” The corners of his mouth twitched with barely concealed anger. My stomach somersaulted. I was on thin ice now.

  I petted Shouka’s head to keep her calm. And myself, truth be told. “Our problems have nothing to do with her. They’re between you and me. And I don’t think they’re going to be solved.” I faced him. “Not by moving in together, and not by staying together.”

  He studied me. I could almost feel him strategizing. Figuring out the most effective way to manipulate me. It was hard to believe I’d been blind to it for so long—now it was painfully obvious.

  Finally, he sighed, stepped closer and put his hands on my arms. “Look, tonight’s been rough. I lost my temper because you caught me off guard. Maybe we both need to just sleep on it, and then talk about this tomorrow once we’ve both calmed down, okay?”

  I dropped my gaze. “Jesse, we—”