“I’m going to kick your ass, Greg Cage. Kick it fucking hard!” I scream out at him.
I swear I hear his laughter as he walks out of the bathroom.
I stay in the shower until the water runs cold, dreading leaving the solitude of my bathroom. Getting out, I dry off, brush my hair and teeth, and throw on my robe. I take a deep breath in and open the door.
There he is, the giant asshole, sitting on my bed with his elbows resting on his knees. He is looking right at me, trying to look serious while suppressing his laughter.
Asshole.
“All right, you wanted me out.” I throw my arms wide. “Here I am. What is so important, huh?”
He smiles at me, letting a few gruff chuckles free. “Try and be a badass another day, Izzy. I’m fucking tired. Went to chat with Reid when I left last night. Told him a little about the situation, not everything. He knows there is a husband not wanting to become an ex and not being quiet about it. He doesn’t know the significance behind the picture, but it’s disturbing enough that he didn’t question me too deep last night. I want you to be honest with him. It’s important for him to do his job, Iz. He doesn’t know a thing about shit other than this mess currently going on and the little he needed to know about your marriage to understand the threat. He’s booked solid with shit for the next two weeks, but I told him I would keep my eyes open until we could put a plan of action into play. You meet with Reid, explain the whole situation, everything—and I mean everything—and then we deal. Understand?”
I take a second to process what Greg just said. It’s a lot, and I know he means well, but I do not want someone else in my business.
“Greg,” I start, “I really would feel better if it were just you dealing with this. I don’t really know this guy, and—”
“Not negotiable, Iz. I’m good, but I am not as good as Reid.”
Sighing, I look at Greg. Defeated, I reply, “Fine, G. You know best.”
“That’s right, baby girl. Don’t worry. Reid’s who you need. Him and the boys, between all of us, there is no fucking way that shit fuck is getting his hands on you, got me?”
“Yeah, G. I got you.”
Greg left a little while ago, leaving me with a worried Dee. A worried Dee planning another ‘forget the world’ mission. I’m not sure I can handle another one of these. Her newest plan? Continue with birthday weekend. Since yesterday’s plans went wonky, she calls up Greg to let him know the plan—drinks and dancing at Club Carnal.
Fabulous.
Just what I want.
My defeated mood continues throughout the day, and I just don’t have the strength to fight Dee on this. I can handle one night out with Dee, Greg, drinks aplenty, and loud music to drown out the pain.
I spend my day vegging out on the couch and just hating life in general. Why can’t he just leave me alone? The divorce has been sitting in limbo for six long months. I didn’t want a thing—not the house, cars, or the money. Nothing that would tie me to Brandon. I’m beginning to think he won’t ever just go away.
Dee joins me for lunch. She doesn’t say anything about the previous day, but I can tell she wanted to. She is just working it out in her head, trying to figure out the best way to approach. No doubt she heard everything Greg said too. She knew I would crawl into myself and start going back to that dark place; no way in hell she was letting that happen.
I’m sitting on my bed, folding laundry, and avoiding the world when she walks in.
“Hey, have a second?” she asks, lacking the joy she normally greets me with.
“If you want to hash shit out, I just don’t think I have it in me today, Dee. I love you, but I just don’t know what you want to hear.” I reply, setting the laundry aside and clearing her off a spot to sit.
“I just want to see where your head’s at, make sure you’re okay.”
“I don’t know. I really don’t, Dee. I feel like there isn’t anything I can do at this point. He knows where we are, even though I hoped we could stay invisible to him. It was stupid of me to even nurture that thought. I knew he had reach, I just honestly thought he wouldn’t care. Why? I keep asking myself why he even wants to play this game?” I swallow the tears back down. I can’t go there. Not again.
“Babe, we won’t ever know what goes through that sick bastard’s head. I think it’s all about letting you know he could if he wanted to. He knows you are here, knows you want the divorce. Surely he knows you aren’t that girl he controlled so easily. Iz, I don’t know what his plan is, but I really think you need to speak to Greg’s friend. I would be lying to you if I said I didn’t have any fear that he might try something.”
I know she’s right. Hell, I lived with his evil for six years. I know more than anyone just what Brandon Hunter is capable of.