by Tonya Brooks
An older woman wrapped her arm around a trembling Jolie and began to lead her away from the fracas. Reece was intent on decimating everything that stood between them. He shouted her name over and over again as he fought to be free until he lost his footing and hit his knees, heavy bodies piling on top of him.
Jolie stopped at a doorway several feet away, absolute loathing on her beautiful face as she looked back at him. The same man who had touched her before went to her and slid his arm around her shoulders. “You okay, honey?”
“Get your fucking hands off my wife,” Reece thundered and doubled his efforts to get out from under the press of bodies piled atop him.
“Wife?” The man barked and looked at Jolie with a shocked expression. “You're married to this guy, Scorn?”
Jolie looked at Reece as if he were something she'd scraped off the bottom of her shoe and shook her head. “Never seen him before in my life,” she denied and turned those big blue eyes on the other man. “Keep him away from me, Tommy. He scares me.”
“You got it, honey,” the man agreed and hugged her a little tighter. He turned his attention to the group of bouncers still fighting to hold Reece down and demanded, “Throw his sorry ass outta here. And I'd better not see him again.”
The five bouncers had a hell of a fight on their hands as they managed to haul Reece to his feet and all but dragged him out of the hallway. He shouted for Jolie until he was hoarse. Much as she had screamed for him the night the police had hauled her away.
Jolie
“Thanks, Tommy,” Jolie said shakily as she pulled away from his paternal hug.
Arms wrapped around herself in a protective gesture, she walked inside the dressing room and ignored all the questions the dancers were firing at her before she sank wearily onto the stool at her dressing table. She hadn't even been aware that she was crying until she stared at her reflection in the mirror and saw the mascara streaks on her cheeks.
Fighting to keep a rein on the hysteria threatening to take control, she angrily dashed them away with trembling hands. She had cried enough tears over that man for two lifetimes and it would never happen again. Propping her elbows on the table, she dropped her face into her trembling hands and fought the sob that rose up in her chest.
Jolie could not believe this was really happening. It was simply inconceivable that the high and mighty Reece Lassiter had been in a low rate strip club, but he had. And he'd obviously seen her dance. Shame flooded her before she staunchly pushed it away. She reminded herself that she was doing what she had to in order to survive and provide for her son.
So what if Reece had seen her? The bastard deserved to know what she'd had to become. What he had forced her to do. After he had thrown her out, she'd gone back to her old boss and begged him for a job. Two days later, the bank had foreclosed on his loan and the coffee shop went out of business.
Only someone as powerful as Reece could have made that happen.
She'd managed to get a job in a fast-food restaurant after that, but the scent of food and morning sickness had not meshed well. Jolie had moved on to working in a convenience store until a robbery had occurred. Having a gun held to her head had sent her into premature labor, and she'd almost lost the baby.
After she'd had Bryce, a temp agency sent her to Jasper Industries to help behind the scenes for a benefit gala. She'd been fired after the owner had recognized her. Since then she'd been a painter's helper, cleaned kennels and bathed dogs for a veterinary clinic, waited tables in a small diner, as well as a multitude of other dead-end jobs.
No matter what she did, Reece had always managed to find out where she worked and pressured the owner into firing her. The man was determined to destroy her, and he'd done a damn good job of it. Left with no other recourse, she'd put all those years of dance lessons to work as a stripper.
Jolie hated everything about it, but it wasn't like she had a choice. She couldn't even work at one of the classy gentlemen's clubs because if someone that her ex knew recognized her she'd just get fired again. Unfortunately, she knew that Reece wouldn't settle for getting her fired this time. Since she'd had him thrown out, he'd retaliate by having the club shut down.
No one crossed him and got away unscathed.
No one.
She had learned the hard way that her ex was completely ruthless. If he wanted something, he got it. And when he tired of it, he threw it away. Just like he had with her. And now he'd decided that he wanted their son. She knew it. After everything that had happened recently, it was too much of a coincidence for him to make an appearance after all this time.
Reece wanted Bryce, and he'd stop at nothing to get him. For once, they were in complete agreement. Nothing would keep Jolie away from her son. His father be dammed. She would fight him tooth and nail for her baby. Her ex had already taken more than she had to give, and the only way he'd get Bryce was over her dead body.
The thought sent a shiver of foreboding down her spine.
Reece
The first thing Reece did after he picked his ass up off of the sidewalk where the bouncers had tossed him, was call his attorney. When George answered, he rattled off the address and commanded, “Buy the fucking building and shut the club down no matter what it takes. I want this shit done before close of business tomorrow.”
He'd be dammed if his wife would get back on that goddamn stage again and this was the fastest way to make sure it didn't happen. Ending the call before the other man had a chance to respond, he stalked back to where he had left his car, much like an angry jungle cat and just as dangerous.
He'd expected Jolie to be hurt and angry because she sure as hell had a right to be. And he'd been prepared to let her vent and give him the hell that he deserved. But he had not expected the absolute loathing that he'd seen in her eyes. The sheer hatred and bitterness evident in her rage-filled tone.
Jesus Christ, what had he done to her?
His Jolie was a creature of sweetness and light, not that hissing, vitriol-filled she-cat who'd tried to claw his eyes out. Dane had been right. She wasn't the woman he remembered. She'd had him thrown out like he was some bum who had wandered in off the street instead of the man she had vowed to love forever.
Just like he had done to her.
Anguish filled his burdened soul at the realization, and he scrubbed his hands over his face in frustration. No way in hell was this over. Reece had never admitted defeat in his life, and he wasn't about to start now. He'd been in no-win situations before and always found a way to come out on top. He just needed to assess the situation in a detached manner and keep his emotions out of the equation like this was any other problem.
Whether in a street fight or a business deal, the first step was always to find his opponent's weakness. That was simple enough. In Jolie's case, it would be their son. The next step was to exploit that weakness. That meant using the boy to get to his mother. Under normal circumstances that would not be a problem, but the thought of exploiting his child repulsed him.
How many times had his mother used Dane and himself to gain her own selfish wants and needs? How many times had they been subjected to humiliating circumstances beyond their control because of her greed? There were too many to count, and unfortunately, he remembered them all.
Since he was just as ruthless as the woman who had given him birth, he'd never wanted to put a child in the same position that he'd been in. Which was one of the reasons why he'd had that goddamn vasectomy to begin with. Reece was a lot of things, but a hypocrite was not one of them. He'd never exploit his child to get what he wanted.
He'd have to find another way to get to Jolie.
Fortunately, his car hadn't been stolen, so he drove back to park outside the club and wait. Sooner or later his wife would come out, and when she did they had some serious issues to settle. Scowling at the run-down building he was about to own, Reece noticed the poster hanging beside the door and cursed like the gutter rat he had once been. It announced that Scorn performed at midnight
and One A.M.
Fucking. Hell!
That shit was not happening.
The fire hydrant at the curb provided the perfect solution. Hell yeah, what he was about to do was illegal, but Reece didn't let that deter him. He called 911 and reported a fire at the club. The fire department would evacuate the building while they assessed the situation, and getting Jolie out of there was exactly what he wanted.
Within minutes the street was filled with emergency vehicles while employees and customers were being led out. A group of women exited the alley in various stages of undress, and he spotted Jolie in the crowd. She marched right out onto the sidewalk and looked up and down the street until she spotted him.
She stalked over to his car and slammed the side of her fist against the driver's side window. Yeah, she knew what he'd done, and she was pissed as hell. So was he. “You son of a bitch,” she seethed, the blue eyes flashing angrily. “You're trying to get me fired again!”
“My wife will not work in a fucking strip club,” he bit out as he lowered the window between them.
“Like I have a choice,” she snapped bitterly. “Thanks to you, I can't keep a decent job.”
“What the hell does that mean?” He responded, incredulous that she blamed him for her choice of employment.
“Does this look like Broadway to you?” Jolie demanded furiously and flung an arm toward the club. “I sure as hell didn't study dance all those years with the intention of stripping.”
That reminder, like he'd needed a fucking reminder, had him fighting the rage threatening to consume him again. Not to mention her skimpy robe was garnering too much attention. Every man on the street was staring at her and it was seriously pissing him off. “Jolie, get in the car so we can discuss this like rational adults,” he suggested impatiently.
“There's nothing to discuss,” she practically snarled and propped her fists onto her hips, the movement effectively lifting the hem of the robe higher on her supple thighs and causing the front opening to reveal a tantalizing amount of cleavage. “We're done. You ended it four fucking years ago.”
“And that was the biggest goddamn mistake I've ever made,” he shot back and tore his ravenous gaze away from her breasts to see her mouth drop open in shock. Yeah, well, her reaction was understandable. He never had been good at admitting when he was wrong. “Please. Just talk to me. That's all I'm asking.”
Her eyes narrowed as she studied him before Jolie demanded, “If I do, will you go away and leave me alone permanently?”
There was no way in hell would he ever agree to that. Then he remembered that damn oath to Dane and confirmed wearily, “If that's what you want.”
Jolie
Jolie knew that there was a reason for his sudden reappearance. Reece never did anything without a reason. The ruthless bastard always had an agenda, and in spite of how much being near him infuriated her, she needed to know what it was. If talking would finally get him out of her life once and for all, she was willing to give it a try.
Knowing it was probably a complete waste of time, she walked around the car and got in on the passenger side. She sank into the buttery soft leather seat and had just pulled the door shut when he put the car in gear. “What are you doing?” She asked anxiously.
“We can't talk here,” he replied and pulled out onto the street.
“Dammit, Reece, stop the car.” She yanked on the handle but the door wouldn't open. He'd engaged the safety lock, and she was trapped. She’d known this was a mistake and her ex had just proved once again that he could not be trusted.
“Sunshine, just…”
“Don't call me that,” she snapped and her voice held a shrill edge to it. Jolie was about to go into panic mode because she did not want to spend a minute longer in his loathsome presence than was absolutely necessary.
Reece didn't stop the car, but his voice was placating when he replied, “I'll take you any place you want to go after we talk. I'd just prefer to do it in a private setting.”
Jolie gestured to the dollar store flip-flops and bathrobe she wore and taunted, “Well, I'm not dressed for the Bastard Club.” Her ex was a member of the ultra-exclusive club that catered to the financial one-percent. Once their engagement was announced, he had taken her there for privacy when the paparazzi began hounding them relentlessly.
“You’re dressed fine for where we're going,” he replied even though he scowled at the skimpy robe covering her.
Knowing that arguing with him was a complete waste of time, Jolie fastened her seat belt, propped her elbow on the window ledge, and rested her head against her hand. In spite of the fact that her life had become one huge nightmare, tonight was the most bizarre thing that had happened to date. And now Reece had practically kidnapped her.
What the hell could happen next?
CHAPTER THREE
Reece
Jolie didn't seem inclined to talk during the drive, which was fine with Reece. He didn't want to start what he was certain would be a painful conversation for both of them in the car. And he was still trying to figure out how to explain his insane behavior four years ago. Sorry, I made a mistake just wouldn't cut it.
Nor did he have any desire to delve into the past where the root of his insecurity began. There had to be a way to find a happy medium between the two without divulging his deepest, darkest secrets. Baring his soul would only happen as a last resort, but he'd do it. For her. Reece would do anything for his sunshine girl.
Jolie stiffened next to him when he turned into the parking garage of the apartment building, but she said nothing as he drove into his reserved parking space. Reece got out, went around to open her door, and led her to the private elevator that led directly to the penthouse. “You moved,” she finally commented when the doors closed.
“Couldn't stand to live there,” he admitted as his eyes met hers in the mirrored door. “I saw you everywhere I looked.”
There had been too damn many memories that he couldn't escape from. Jolie laughing as she tried to teach him how to cook in the gourmet kitchen. Hot, steamy showers with even hotter sex in the master bathroom. Cuddling turned to passion on the couch. The bedroom had been the absolute worst, and he'd never been able to sleep in their bed again.
“Good,” she said bitterly and folded her arms over her chest. “I hope it made you miserable.”
“It did,” Reece confessed as the doors slid smoothly open, and she preceded him into the foyer. The lights came on automatically and Jolie stopped in surprise.
“Motion detectors,” he said absently as he followed her inside. “Every room lights up when you enter it. After no movement for three minutes, they go back off.”
The look she gave him was scathing, to say the least. “Ah, yes. I'd almost forgotten how much the filthy rich like their expensive toys.”
He grimaced at her judgmental tone and the accusation in her words. He'd been living in the lap of luxury while she'd barely been scraping by. Bile rose in his throat again, and he had to swallow hard to keep it down. “Have a seat,” Reece offered. “Can I get you a drink?”
Jolie
Jolie doubted a glass of wine would settle her nerves. A bottle, maybe. But she'd need a clear head to deal with him, so she refused the offer. “I would like a shower,” she admitted and saw his shocked expression. She knew it was a bizarre request, but she couldn't wait to get the stench of the club off of her. “And something to wear.”
“I'll have something delivered,” Reece confirmed as he grabbed his phone.
“No.” She'd forgotten just how easy things were for him. Her ex only needed to make a phone call, and he could have an entire wardrobe delivered to the door. Even in the middle of the night. “I can wear a pair of your sweats and a T-shirt,” Jolie said as he led her to the master suite. Like everything else about the place, it was luxuriously appointed.
“The bathroom is through there,” he said and gestured to a door on the right. “I'll leave some clothes on the bed for you.”
It took a minute to figure out the complex touch screen system that operated the various heads, but it was well worth the effort. A gentle rain fell from above as the wall mounts pulsed a massaging spray over her body. Nothing but the best for Reece, she thought bitterly and enjoyed every last second of the little slice of heaven.
Once she'd washed and conditioned her hair, Jolie scrubbed her body vigorously and then just stood there indulging in the best damn shower she'd had in years. Grabbing a fluffy towel from the heated bar, she stepped out onto the plush bathmat and dried off. The Egyptian cotton was a far cry from the threadbare towels she owned.
Living in the lap of luxury had been a novelty during their marriage, but after the past few years of abject poverty, she fully appreciated the difference. She also resented her ex more now than ever. Even before they were married, she'd never craved the finer things in life, but she had expected to live like a normal human being.
Reece had taken that away from her, too.
With the towel wrapped around her, Jolie walked into the bedroom and saw several articles of clothing laid out on the bed. Her ex was giving her options for a change. It was a damn shame that it was too little, too late. She bypassed the sweats and t-shirt in favor of a pair of dove gray cashmere pajama pants and a navy cashmere Henley shirt.
The material was decadently soft against her bare flesh, and she shivered at the sensual sensation. Jolie rolled the sleeves up three times to rest on her forearms, pulled the waist tight with the drawstring, and rolled the pants legs up onto her calves. Reece was a big man and though she was a tall woman, his size had always made her feel feminine and petite.