I think lingerie is pretty, and Wren seems happy with what she picked out—after her breakdown in the dressing room, of course. But being in a lingerie store for an hour? Really not my thing.
Oliver adds the bags to the trunk, and we climb into the SUV again. This time, before Wren can reach for her seatbelt, I pull her into the middle seat and strap her in. I keep my arm around her, and she settles into my side with a sigh. She runs her hand up and down my thigh with soft strokes.
Two days. Technically, one and a half now. It’s not enough fucking time to get her out of my system. Hell, I’m beginning to think I never will.
When Elliot pulls into the parking lot of Wren’s apartment building, her hand freezes on my leg. Her gaze is locked onto a green sedan close to the entrance.
Wren’s deep, relaxed breaths quickly turn to shallow, panicked ones. Her nails dig into my pants, although I don’t think she realizes it.
Shit. Fuck. I can barely handle my emotions, let alone someone else’s. When I heard her crying in the dressing room earlier, it felt like I couldn’t move. And now I’m the one in the backseat with her while she’s about to break down again.
“Who?” I grunt out.
Wrong thing to fucking say, you idiot.
“Adam,” she whispers. “My ex.”
I hear Elliot undoing his seatbelt. “We’re coming up with you.”
She’s about to protest, but she clamps her mouth shut at the look Elliot gives her in the rearview mirror. It’s for the best. When Elliot’s protective side comes out, it’s smart to stay out of his fucking way.
We head up to her apartment, and I keep her tucked into my side.
In the elevator, she swears under her breath. “He has a key. I completely forgot.”
“Any idea what he wants?” Elliot says without looking at her. Also for the best. I can feel the anger radiating off of him, and it makes me wonder what exactly he knows about this Adam guy that he hasn’t told us.
“Probably just to talk.” She’s trying to keep her voice even, but she’s not doing a great job at it.
When we get to her apartment, she turns to us. “If you guys don’t mind, I’d like to try to talk to him alone. Just to see why he’s here. I have a feeling he’d be pretty intimidated if I walked in with three guys behind me.”
I grunt at the idea.
“I’ll leave the door open,” she says gently. “That way you can hear everything.”
I hate it, but I nod. When she disappears into her apartment, it feels like she’s carrying a part of my heart with her.
“Adam,” I hear her say. “What—oh, god. What did you do?”
I clench my fists. The tension coming from Oliver and Elliot tells me they’re struggling to stay put as well.
“You went home with someone last night,” a male voice yells. “Ben was there. He told me. How could you do that?”
“That’s rich coming from you,” she snaps. “Get out, Adam. You’ve made enough of a mess.”
“I’ve been calling you for days.” His speech is slurred. Is he seriously drunk?
When I hear movement, I can’t help it. I move closer, peeking through the crack in the open door. There’s shit all over the floor, and he’s standing a yard or two away from her.
If he takes one more goddamned step toward her . . .
“I don’t have a particularly good reason to talk to you,” she says flatly, looking around the apartment. It’s a mess.
“Yes, you do!” he shouts. Then he grabs a mug from the kitchen counter. The way he’s standing and glaring is all too familiar to me.
Fuck.
I barrel into the room just as he winds up for the throw. I grab Wren, pulling her back and behind me, but I’m not fast enough. The mug still catches her shoulder before crashing to the ground.
She lets out a shocked noise as I shove her behind me.
“Who the fuck is this?” Adam shouts. “Did you go home with him? Have you been sleeping with him behind my back the whole fucking time?”
Wren steps out from behind me, pushing my hand away when I try to force her back. “You cheated on me, Adam. Seriously, what’s wrong with you?”
She turns when Elliot comes to stand beside her, and I can feel Oliver right behind us.
Adam’s gaze settles on us, his eyes widening. “Babe, what’s going on? Who the hell are these guys?”
I step forward. “Right now? Your worst fucking nightmare, buddy.”
He takes a step back, tripping over a broken vase on the floor and falling on his ass. But I just grab the collar of his shirt and haul him back up.
“Who the fuck do you think you are, that you can speak to Wren like that?”
He sputters, but I barely notice. All I see is red. I need to get this guy out of here. If I lose it in front of Wren—
“Rhett.” Elliot places a hand on my arm, and his gaze meets mine. “Not here.”
I let out a string of curses, because he’s right. Even if I get Adam outside, it’s still too public of a place. Too many potential eyewitnesses. Too many security cameras.
With a grunt, I drag Adam out of the apartment. “Car keys.” This kid is in no shape to drive, and he might not care, but I’m not letting him kill someone in a crash just because he got dumped.
Adam looks at me like I’m an idiot.
“Do you want to have the shit beat out of you?” I slam him against the wall. “Because I’m about to lose my fucking patience.”
He lets out a terrified noise, fumbling in his jacket pocket before pulling them out. I snatch them from his hands. “You’d better watch your back, kid. Because you’ll pay for hurting Wren.” I shove him down the hallway so hard he stumbles and falls. “Get lost,” I snap. “And don’t ever call her babe again.” I don’t move, watching until he flees down the hallway and into an elevator.
When I step back into the apartment, Wren runs into my arms.
“Are you all right?” I pull away from her, tugging off her coat and pushing the sleeve of her shirt up. She winces when I touch her shoulder, and the simple movement solidifies my resolve.
Adam will pay. Tonight.
“I’ll be fine,” she says in a failed attempt at a cheerful tone. But her voice is shaking—along with her hands. “Thank you for pulling me out of the way. I think I was too stunned to move.”
I pull her into a hug, pressing my lips to her hairline. He was aiming for her head. An image of Wren crumpled on the floor, bleeding, flashes through my mind, and I hold her tighter.
“Rhett,” she wheezes, pushing against me.
Shit. I release her, and she gasps in a breath, clinging to my shirt. “Sorry,” I mutter.
But she just shakes her head, giggling, before pressing her lips to mine. I let it ground me, deepening the kiss and cradling her face in my hands.
When she pulls away, it’s with a contented smile. But it disappears the second her eyes leave mine.
It’s then that I finally get a good look at her apartment. I was wrong earlier—it’s not a mess. That implies a lack of cleaning. This place is trashed.
The cabinets in her kitchen are open and empty, most of the dishes smashed. The same thing is true of her bookshelf, and there are broken picture frames littering the floor.