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Baby Fever Virgin: A Billionaire Second Chance Romance

Page 37

by Nicole Snow


  I'm going straight to his. No more wasting time.

  A brisk walk down the hall later, I'm there, pressing my ear against the door.

  There's laughter. A woman giggles. It's the kind of laugh that means two things.

  She's either heard the funniest fucking joke in the world, or she's just finished riding a worm who should be home in his own bed, with the woman he wants to call his wife.

  Fuck. I'm furious. Part of me is glad he's here. The chances that I'm going to kick his ass and claim Kara for myself just spiked a thousand percent.

  But if he's hurt her, if he's thrown her out of their condo or worse...I'll throw my budding empire away knocking his teeth out. I'll destroy the asshole, right here, in cold blood, becoming the monster everybody back home thinks I am.

  I'll make sure he never, ever cheats on a woman again with the crude joke of a face he's got left when I'm through.

  My fingers tighten into a fist, and I stand up straight.

  This is it.

  I don't think about keeping it subtle, hiding what's about to go down from anybody else in the adjacent rooms. The place seems mostly deserted for an autumn weekend. My fist slams into his door like a rock, banging the surface again and again.

  It creaks open slowly a small, frightened brunette face peering out at me through the crack. “Can I help you?”

  “I need to talk to Reginald Drayton.” I don't know what to think of the girl, but my beef isn't with her. Maybe she knows she's fucking around with a taken man. Or maybe she's innocent, one more girl he's wiping his feet on because he thinks he's the biggest swinging dick in town.

  Before I showed up, the bastard was in the running, thanks to his money. Not anymore.

  “Amy? Who is it?” I hear his voice for the first time. He's coming toward her, and I see him moving over her shoulder.

  She turns around, frightened, her hand on the door like she doesn't know if she should push it shut.

  I never give them a chance. My hand goes through the crack, rips apart the cheap silver chain, and my foot kicks the base of the door like a charging bull. Asshole shields himself from the noise, backing up into the corner, taking his mistress into his arms.

  “Who the fuck are you?! What do you want? This must be some kind of terrible mistake! I swear, I've never seen you before in my –“

  I pull her gently out of his arms, flinging the girl onto the nearby bed. With him, my hands forget what gentle means. Slamming him into the wall, I hear his bones creak, knowing I can snap them in half like twigs if I really need to.

  “Kara Lilydale, asshole. Where is she?”

  “You! You're the detective, aren't you?” He's looking at me, wide eyed and filled with hate. “I'm going to have your license stripped, you know. If you lay a finger on me, you'll be in jail before the end of the night.”

  Enough.

  My knee goes into his guts, and then my hand is on his throat. Typical Drayton. Always trying to get the last word, thinking the entire Earth wants to hear it.

  The stupid fucking cheat still tries to squawk when I press my palm into his windpipe, making words impossible.

  I'm done hearing his shit. It's time for him to listen to me.

  “Shut up. I'm not a detective, and you don't give a shit about what she does.” There's something dangling from his neck. I notice for the first time I don't need my hand to choke him.

  This sick, twisted freak is wearing a choke chain attached to a leather collar. Just like a dog. I take it in one hand, eyeballing the ring around his neck to make sure it's still on, and pull. He hits the floor, and I put my foot on his back, cutting off his air while I look at the woman.

  “Put the phone down,” I tell her. “If you so much as whisper a word to the cops, or the front desk, the man you've been screwing around with dies.”

  Her eyes are huge, frightened, stunned. She's wearing heels that must be impossible to walk in. They're blood red, a perfect compliment to her candy cane stockings hugging her legs. I can only imagine her walking all over him before I showed up, lifting the pointy heels out to his tongue.

  Christ, no wonder Kara-bou's been craving my touch, if this is what her soon-to-be ex is into.

  “You're going to shut up and listen to me, Reg. Nod if you understand,” I say, waiting until he shakes his head weakly. I let up on the choke chain, just enough to give him air. “When I let go, you're going to tell me where Kara is. You're also going to finish your business here with Miss Dominatrix, get in your car, go home, and pack your shit. Leave her a note that says you're leaving. She doesn't need to see your lying, cheating ass in the flesh anymore.”

  He's squirming underneath me. If I weren't so mad, I'd smile.

  It gives me a sick pleasure knowing he's helpless, and such a gutless little pissant, he'll do everything I say. And if he doesn't, then we're going to have some real fun.

  “Do you understand? Nod if you do.”

  He does it very weakly. My cue to step off his spine, ease back on the chain, and let him breathe. His mistress walks over, gets on the floor, and caresses his face. I let her give him several seconds worth of comfort he doesn't deserve.

  I'm not here to torture him, tempting as it is. I just want answers, and then I'm going to make sure he follows through.

  “Who...who are you?” he sputters. “Why are you doing this?”

  “I'm the one she's supposed to marry. Not you, cheater. Question time is over. You nodded, so I think we have an understanding. Do you remember everything I said?”

  “Yes,” he says, leaning heavily on the skinny little thing holding him up. “I'll leave tonight. Whatever you want.”

  “Good. Now, answer my question,” I growl, giving the chain a warning pull.

  He tenses up, turns toward me, and gives me a glare through his angry, watering eyes. “I don't know where she is. Honest. I'm the one who sent the alert to the police. She didn't come home when she was supposed to a few hours ago, and her phone's completely dead.”

  My fists are hungry. They're looking for any excuse to make this man bleed, but I don't think he's lying. The brunette digs her fingers into his scalp, pulling his face to her shoulder, protecting him.

  It's almost laughable. Her non-existent balls are ten times bigger than his. I can't believe I almost let my woman tie the knot with this dickless animal.

  “He's telling you the truth!” she says. “I'm their wedding planner. The woman's impossible to deal with, she always does things without thinking them through. She'll turn up sooner or later. And when she does, I'm refunding her money, telling her to keep the fuck away. She's made his life hell, and so have his parents. He doesn't want to be with her. They've put so much pressure on him to do the right thing, to keep their reputation going for another generation in the U.P. He deserves better than a bad wife and a family who'll never understand.”

  Is she joking? Does she think I'm going to stand by idly while she gives me his life story?

  “Stay right there,” I say, reaching for my phone.

  She covers her face, flushing bright red, while I snap several pics. I don't give a damn what kind of excuses she's trying to make for this pathetic creep wrapped up in her arms.

  I only care about getting new damning evidence for Kara. She deserves to see this, and know beyond any doubt who he's left her for.

  “What else have you got in your stack of toys over there?” I ask, nodding toward the bed. “Handcuffs?”

  She gives me an uneasy look. Yeah, of course there are handcuffs.

  I don't say a word. Just march over, pull out the small silver pair, plus a black cord that feels like a jumprope. I order them down into two leather chairs with the thick wooden legs.

  First, I cuff the asshole's hands behind his back, making them tighter than I really need to. With her, I'm more gentle, though I've got an ugly feeling I shouldn't be.

  She knows she's fucking around with a man who's engaged. He's probably fed her a sob story, but the one thing missing fro
m her little account is regret.

  They won't be tied down long with the job I did. But it's all I need to walk out of that room, head down the hall, and get to my car. I tell the woman at the front desk I had a family emergency, and check out with the room on my tab for a grand total of thirty minutes.

  I have to find Kara, and this time it's for good. I won't stop until I have her lips on mine, haul her into bed, and make up for all the nights we lost since I fled town.

  This time, I'm back. I've said my apologies and I'm ready to move on. I'm going to give her the life she deserves, the one I promised her. It's the life I've always meant to deliver after five brutal years apart.

  Never again.

  “Baby, I'm coming,” I whisper to myself, pulling onto the highway, stabbing my foot down on the accelerator. My car goes from ten miles an hour to seventy in two seconds flat. The average Tesla has some nice perks.

  It isn't fast enough. Five years without her is too much time to lose, and after tonight, I'm not wasting another second.

  I'm putting us back together. Taking her to bed, shoving my ring back on her finger, and fucking her like the sad, strange bastard at the hotel never could.

  She isn't his anymore. Hell, she never was.

  I don't care if she isn't sure about second chances yet, I'm going to tell her the truth, show her, make her believe. There's nothing clearer beating in my heart, and I hear the truth in every booming thud. I feel it spike into my blood, feed my veins, fill my soul with one voice screaming mine, mine, mine a hundred times.

  Honest to God. That's all she'll ever be, all she's meant to be, however much the universe tries to hold us apart.

  My Kara's coming home. Her forever is my own.

  Entangled. Beautiful. Inseparable.

  9

  Reset (Kara)

  Several Hours Earlier

  I closed down Grounded a few hours ago, telling my assistant manager I won't be in tomorrow. I packed a few waters and sandwiches, ready to make the trip to Sault Ste. Marie. It's a quiet town at the end of the U.P. on Canada's border.

  Perfect for the introspection and time alone I need the next few days. I'm about twenty minutes outside town, passing through the edge of Marquette, when my phone rings.

  I have to talk to Matt, however much it's bound to upset me right now.

  “Sis? Where are you? We need to talk,” he says, little Holden laughing in the background. I hear another voice, mom's, which tells me he's home. He's probably also dropped the news about Ryan.

  “We're talking now, Matt. You must be calling me because you've decided what you're going to do. Just tell me.”

  There's a pause, and then a heavy sigh. “I haven't turned the asshole in. Not yet. He's dangerous, and he shouldn't be out on the streets, much less in your coffee shop late at night. I want you to tell me why he came back. What does he want with you?”

  I think about his arms, his heat, the truth he promised last night. I remember Reg this morning, the bitter, violent edge in his voice, how he flung me around our kitchen and smashed his secrets – if that's what they really were – into a dozen pieces.

  “He's trying to prevent me from making a mistake,” I say, as close to the truth as I can get. It's also the closest I think he'll come to understanding, since he's convinced I'm dealing with a monster.

  “Mistake – what? Surely you don't mean marrying Reg?”

  “I don't know, Matt. He told me some things. Even gave me what he said was proof of things Reg has been doing behind my back.”

  “Kara, fuck, come on! You don't really believe that, do you? He's putting ideas in your head. You're happy together. Ain't like me and Maggie.”

  He's so sure it hurts. I guess that's what I get for keeping the strain in our relationship to myself, hiding it from everyone. It was mostly his idea. God forbid his parents and their rich friends find out there might not be a wedding to deal with, when they've spent so much time and money planning it.

  Well, there won't be now.

  I'm still trying to form an answer when Matt swears again, his frustration boiling over.

  “Look, I don't have time for this crap. Here's ma, I'll let her try to talk some sense into you.”

  Great. I can't follow the road safely anymore with everything going to hell. So, I pull over, into a small scenic overlook. Down below, Superior's dark waters slap the rocky shore, mirroring the feelings kicked up inside me.

  “Kara? Your brother told me everything. Listen, I know how much it hurt when he walked out. I saw the damage he did to you – we all did – but no one like me, first-hand. If you want him gone, honey, and you can't do it yourself, then let us take care of him. We can talk to Sheriff Dixon, make sure he's apprehended before he has a chance to play more games. We're here for you and –“

  “Jesus. Fuck.” I'm gripping the steering wheel hard, ready to tear it off. “You don't get it, do you, mom? Neither of you. I'm the one who agreed to meet with him last night. I've known about him being back in town for almost a week. He isn't here to hurt anymore.”

  “Kara.” She says my name in a tone that lets me see her holding up a finger. “You don't know what he's here to do. He's an awful man. You shouldn't trust him with anything. Honey, I've heard you might be having some issues with Reg. You're vulnerable. Ryan probably knows it, which is why he's come back here to mess with you again. Don't believe a word he says. Don't –“

  “I don't know what to believe, but the only one who can sort it out is me. Nobody else,” I say, jabbing my finger against the dashboard. The pain gives me a nice distraction. “What is it he's done, anyway? Why won't anyone be honest about it? It seems like you know more than I do, as much as daddy took to the grave a couple years ago.”

  She's quiet. No different than the other times I've asked her about what really happened that night, whatever they know that goes beyond old articles and rumors.

  “Kara, your father wanted you to move past Ryan. Forget him. Pretend he never existed,” she whispers. “We don't need to relive his betrayal. He stabbed us all in the back when we least expected it. Maybe we failed to recognize the mental issues a boy like him had, coming from those foster homes that didn't take good care of him. It isn't our problem anymore, honey, and it isn't yours. He needs to be locked up so he can finally get some help.”

  “Locked up why? Because you think he really killed Nelson Drayton? I've never understood why everyone is so fucking insistent. He sat at our table almost every night, mom. He was like family. I loved him. If he had a dark side, I would've seen it. He's not a murderer.”

  I'm so sure of my own words I almost believe them. Almost.

  What I really want is to get off the phone, forget about going east, and find Ryan. I want him to clear his name. I want to believe I'm not falling for another dangerous liar, when Reg has shown me that's all he really is.

  “You don't know that. Kara, please come home,” she says, snapping at first and then softening her tone. “Please. We can sit down, talk about this, sort out what we're going to do. I'll leave a light on for you. We'll figure this out as a family, together. We won't do anything until I let you have your say, if that's what you want. You've seen him last, so you might know how to deal with him without anyone else getting hurt.”

  I'm not going to change her mind, no matter how much time I burn talking. She clearly isn't opening up, and isn't going to tell me any new big, ugly secrets.

  I hang up. Turn off my phone. Ignoring another text from Ryan while I do it. I can't let them trace his last communications to me if mom and Matt decide to turn him in, and it turns into a manhunt.

  I need to find him, before the wolves close in, and rip him away from me forever. Whipping my car around, I peel back onto the highway, watching my headlights stab into the night.

  My first mistake of the night is stopping at home, before I try to get in touch with Ryan. I'm surprised to see Reg's car there when it isn't even midnight. After what happened, I thought for sure he'd be gon
e.

  As soon as I step inside, I hear something being thrown around upstairs, bounding loudly across the floor.

  I take each step up cautiously. When I reach the hall, I look into our bedroom. It's a total mess. Clothes everywhere, drawers ripped open, debris from the master bathroom strewn around in the clothes. I've never seen Mr. Clean in such a chaotic frenzy, and it sends a chill up my back.

  “Reg? What's going on?”

  “Kara.” He stops, turns around, his eyes wide like I've just caught him pulling money from the safe. Thankfully, that seems to be untouched. There isn't a single fingerprint reflecting on the shiny metal buttons at the bottom of our closet. “I was going to leave a note, but...I'm leaving.”

  “Leaving? What do you mean?” I say, folding my arms. “Another work trip?”

  I'm so sick of his excuses. The only thing that stops me from walking away is the mess he's made, which tells me he's in a hurry to get the hell out. I'd like to know why.

  “No, not work.” He shifts uncomfortably, stress lining his face. “Look, I'm sorry it has to go down this way. I'll be gone for the rest of the week, and I expect you to be out of my condo by the end of the week. Wedding's off, and we're done.”

  My heart shouldn't hurt anymore. It's irrational. But it does, bleeding into itself, pain throbbing at the grim finality. I told myself I was ready for this. Hearing it is another story.

  “So, it's over...just like that?” Anger invades my voice. I step into the room, kicking aside my dresses, which he's flung all over the floor. I'd say it's a disrespectful way to end, but it's no different from the way things have been the last six months.

  He doesn't care. He never did. Never will.

  I draw in a breath. “You know what? Fine. I'll be the bigger person and leave, since that's what you want. You've already turned my life upside down, wasted years, so what's another week?”

 

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