“Yeah, I bet you do. With all those women who occupy your bed. I bet they keep you busy." My jab is deliberate, but it doesn't hit the mark. Instead of rattled, Justin just looks confused.
His forehead wrinkles. “What are you talking about? I’ve been a fucking monk for months.”
“Yeah. Did you tell that to Kayla when she found you in bed with a piece of ass?” I motion to Rory to get me another drink.
I expect him to spit something dirty and sarcastic at me, but he's quiet. I glance at him. His eyes are trained on me, and I can tell he's quickly sobering up.
“What do you mean found me in bed with a piece of ass?”
Oh shit. Did I say something I wasn’t supposed to? Fuckity fuck. Rory brings me my drink, and I’m saved by the glass. I bring it to my lips to keep myself busy. Fuck, did I betray Kayla’s trust by saying something I wasn’t supposed to? He was the one in bed with another woman, so he should know what I'm talking about.
But he doesn't. It's clear as day that he has no idea what I'm talking about at all.
“No fights, boys.” Rory reminds us before leaving us to our business.
I gulp down my drink, wave for Rory to put it on my tab, and quickly walk toward the exit.
I shouldn't be driving with two drinks in my system, especially after a full sleepless shift. I gotta get home somehow, so I decide to walk and pick up my truck tomorrow morning. I don't have a shift, and I don't need to be anywhere early anyway.
Heavy footsteps soon follow me, and the situation feels all too familiar.
"Wait," Justin calls, but there is no malice in his voice, only urgency, so I cave and turn around.
“What?”
"What did you mean back there?" He points to the bar. I look between him and the bar as if I'll find answers between them. "Look. I'm lost here. She left without a word, and I have no idea what happened. The whole town rioted against me, and no one will say a word. Just tell me what you know. Please." His‘please’does it. He wipes his face with his hands, looking miserable. I don't give a shit about him being a miserable fuck—he deserves that and so much more. But I care about Kayla, and if my senses are right, there may have been a colossal misunderstanding, resulting in poor Kayla suffering for nothing.
I sigh. “I drove her to her place the day she left.” His jaw clenches tight, and I chuckle. One possessive fucker. I’ll never be like that if I ever find the right woman to settle with. Never. I’ll always be the rational one. “Chill. I drove by your garage and saw her being harassed by Jake, so I had to stop." His nostrils flare, and his eyes suddenly turn a dangerous shade. One I’m all too familiar with. The one from that night. “Did you talk to Jake?”
He shakes his head. “I didn’t think he knew anything.”
"Oh, that little fucker knows.” I hear my teeth grind with irritation. “He was following her from your house and talking shit. I had to step in because he was being a total asshole to her while she was crying her eyes out."
His face twists in pain, and I'm one hundred percent sure a big revelation is imminent. He swallows and asks, "Do you know why she was crying?"
I level him with a stare, taking a deep breath. "Because she saw another woman sleeping with you. Naked."
"Fuck!" He yells, pulling on his hair. "Now that fucking smell makes sense."
I'm glad it makes sense to him because it doesn't make any sense to me.
"Of fuck. Thanks, man." He begins pacing and suddenly stops, looking at me with crazed eyes. "Wait. You said you saw Jake there. Are you sure?"
“Pretty damn sure. He was following her from the back of your building and threatened me with the law like he always does."
His fists clench, his jaw sets, and for a moment there, I’m a little scared for that poor fucker. He nods and walks down the road toward his house.
Did I do a good deed or a bad one?
ChapterThirty-Two
JUSTIN
Driving to my parents’ house, I know this isn't how I wanted this evening to go, mainly murdering my little brother. I believe Mark (not in a million years did I think I'd say that). Jake's hands are dirty in this situation; I feel it in my gut. He's been so intent on hating Kayla for so long that he doesn't know how to stop. Plus, it's not like I shared the news of her being innocent with him. Why did I keep it to myself? What is wrong with me?
Fuck, how did I mess up so badly? I wasted years bullying an innocent woman—one I realized seems to have been created specifically for me—for something she never did. All of it could have been avoided with just one conversation. Just one. Just like when I couldn't find her, I just needed one conversation to see what I had done wrong. Just one.
My grip on the wheel is too strong, and I force my fingers to flex so I don't accidentally pull it off and die before I get to kill this little bastard.
