“Told me you played me.”
My breath stuck in my throat.
Oh God.
Oh God.
“What?” I pushed through the breath clogging my throat.
“Couldn’t believe it, not you,” he replied.
“Ty –”
“Not you,” he repeated.
“Ty,” I whispered, I’d started trembling again, knowing this was bad, very bad, the worst and he moved, his long legs taking him to the stairs and I watched, still confused but also terrified. So terrified all I could do was stare at the stairs and not move.
Something was wrong. Very wrong. Cataclysmically wrong.
And I knew what that wrong was.
And I wanted my feet to take me to the stairs so I could sort it out with Ty in private but I was so terrified of what I’d done and his reaction to it I couldn’t get my feet to move.
“I’ll talk to him,” Julius muttered but I still didn’t move though I saw him at the stairs because I was still staring at them.
And I stared at them feeling my breath stick in my throat, my heart beat hard and fast in my chest, my palms itch and my blood race, hot and frantic in my veins.
Then I saw legs and heard Ty rumble, “Not your gig, brother.”
“Walk, listen to me –”
“Not your fuckin’ gig,” Ty cut him off, rounded the stairs and came straight to the island.
On it he slammed down rolls of cash.
“Fifty K. Your pay. I’m outta here, you got an hour to get your sweet ass outta my house.”
Yes. Yes. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Cataclysmically wrong.
And I knew what it was. And I knew by his face he meant every word.
Still, I whispered a shaky, “What?”
“You played me, Lexie, you... fuckin’… played me,” he growled, leaning into me. “Goin’ to Tate and Deke behind my fuckin’ back. Spreadin’ for me to keep me distracted. Your *’s got no chain?” he asked, his words pummeling me then he leaned back and clipped, “Bullshit. Just as heavy as all the fuckin’ rest.”
Each word hit me like a blow.
“Ty, I –”
“Played me,” he finished for me then lifted a big hand and jabbed a long finger at me on every “you”. “You did not rot in that fuckin’ place for five years. You do not got a skin tone that makes you a mark. You like black cock but takin’ black cock, babe, does not make you black. You do not get to call the plays with this shit.” He jerked his hand back and his thumb to himself. “I do.”
“Listen to me.”
“Time to listen to you, Lexie, was fuckin’ weeks ago before you spread your fuckin’ legs, just like fuckin’ Misty and fuckin’ played me.”
His words hammering me, the blows so vicious it felt in places my skin had split open, I still found the strength to shake my head and take a step toward him saying, “Please, lis –”
“Do not get near me, bitch,” he growled and I froze, my eyes locked to his, the blood going so fast through my veins it felt like I was burning alive. “An hour,” he bit off. “I come back, you are out. You aren’t, Lexie, I’ll put you out.”
Then he turned, rounded the island and prowled to the door.
Then he was gone.
An hour later, so was I.
Chapter Fourteen
Shattered
Ty
Ty Walker opened the backdoor to his house and walked in to a big, seriously pissed off black man with tree trunk legs planted apart and beefy arms crossed on his chest.
He knew he’d get that when he got home.
He also didn’t give a fuck.
He closed the door and looked Julius right in the eye.
“She gone?” he asked.
“You are one serious dumb fuck.”
“She gone?”
“Oh yeah, brother, she’s gone.”
Ty Walker’s jaw clenched so hard he was lucky it didn’t freeze shut.
He jerked up his chin and headed to the stairs.
He was nearly there when Julius spoke.
“She loved you.”
That was bullshit. She didn’t.
She did, she wouldn’t have played him. She knew what playing him would do. She knew, he found out, she’d be right where she was now, wherever the fuck that was, but wherever it was, he did not fucking care.
Walker kept moving to the stairs.
Julius kept speaking.
“You broke her.”
Ty rounded the railing and tried to shut him out.
Julius kept at him.
“Never seen a woman break like that.”
Fuck, the man needed to shut the fuck up.
His foot hit the first stair.
“Shattered,” Julius called after him.
Walker kept moving.
He hit his room and stopped dead.
Right in the middle of the bed was fifty thousand dollars in cash and four jewelry boxes.
Four.
She’d even left her wedding rings.
He stared at them then he closed his eyes tight and dropped his head.
Then he opened his eyes, moved to the safe in the closet, opened it and went back to the bed. He stowed the shit, closed the safe and kicked himself that he didn’t come upstairs with the fucking bourbon.
*
Two days later…