Spotting a new bottle of wine on the countertop, I grabbed a glass out of the dishwasher.
Get a hot bath, drink a glass of wine, and I’ll be golden.
I grabbed the wine, popped the cork, and poured it into the glass, my mind drifting back to my dinner with Cane.
“Personally, I like to drink out of a real glass.”
I sat the wine down with a shaky hand.
Like a bolt of lightning, all of the emotions I had been keeping in check slammed together with the force of a train. I looked around the kitchen, desperate for something to give me a good memory to latch onto. I needed something to replace the images of Decker watching me leave the courthouse, of Cane walking out the door. But there were only things of Kari’s. Nothing of mine.
Because this isn’t my house. I don’t have a home anymore.
My lip began to quiver as my reality came crashing down on me with the weight of the world.
I’ve lost everything I had, if it was even mine to begin with. And who knows how to get to where I even want to be? Where do I want to be? I don’t even know.
I slid down the cabinets until I was sitting on the cold tile. It felt like a series of bombs were exploding inside me all at once, ripping me into little jagged pieces. Tears fell freely and hard, leaving me unable to catch my breath. It was an explosion after explosion, each memory triggering another, reminding me of what I never had and likely never would.
I had never felt so alone in my life.
If this is really living, like Max said, I’d rather mow the fucking sidewalk.
CANE
The smacking sound my ink pen made as I tapped it off of my yellow notepad was soothing in some crazy way. It was a distraction from—well, my distractions.
I sat back in my office chair, the late Thursday morning sun heating my office. I got up and twisted the blinds shut, blocking out both the heat and the light.
I wish I could block shit out of my life that fucking easy. Where would I even start? Jada? Or Powers?
Definitely Powers.
Grimacing, I headed to the mini-refrigerator across the room and grabbed a bottle of water. Max’s latest bit of information had me perplexed and a little nervous.
“My friend at the police department said that they suspect Simon of being involved with the Sinaloa Cartel; they’ve been watching him for a few months now.”
It made sense. It explained the apparent trips to the border. It explained the money and even the interest in an open office building to use as a front for his operation, if there really was one.
But would a cartel use a tool like Powers? And how would he even get involved with a Mexican cartel?
Too many questions and not enough fucking answers.
I sat back down in my chair, my mind, like a magnet, going back to Jada Stanley.
I am certi-fucking-fiable.
I hadn’t seen her since I left her sitting on her bed, her eyes begging me for something I couldn’t give her. The only thing keeping me sane was that Max saw her almost daily. And, with a few threats involved, he divulged how and what she was doing. She hadn’t really said anything about me, but she hadn’t said anything about Simon, either. So I guessed, on some level, that was good news.
I wasn’t sure why I gave a fuck. It wasn’t like it made any difference to me.
I knew that she didn’t want me—not really. She wanted to fuck me and I sure as hell wanted to fuck her, too. But for some strange reason, I had a conscience about this. I didn’t want her regretting it.
Is this what guys like Max feel like all the time? Poor bastards.
As much as I hated to admit it, Jada was right. I couldn’t give her what she wanted.
I didn’t want complications. I didn’t want a relationship. I didn’t want a responsibility. I didn’t want monogamy.
I didn’t want to fucking prioritize.
And even though Jada seemed to turn a one-eighty the last time I saw her, I couldn’t take advantage of that.
I kicked my feet up on my desk.
When did I, Cane Alexander, not take advantages that were laid out in front of me? Why did I give a fuck about all of this? When did I become such a pussy?
My life revolved around a carefully constructed set of guidelines.
1. Trust no one.
2. Take responsibility for your own success and failures.
3. Embrace being alone.
Things change. Needs change. Desires change. And this setup ensured that I was able to meet my needs and desires. I was a hedonist and I was okay with that. I preferred it, really.
I had lived the past few years without thinking about one girl for very long. Ever since things ended with her, I vowed never to get into a relationship like that again. Women only wanted you for what you could give them and they would always trade you in if something better came along. They would lie, cheat, and destroy your life if they thought they could get a step ahead by doing it.
That’s what my mother had done to my father and what she had done to me.
Fuck them both.