Lisa’s weeping behind me, and while a part of me feels terrible that she’s upset—the woman is pregnant, after all—this had to happen. This dam had to break, eventually. Things couldn’t keep going as they were, with Jason quietly tormenting me as if he had every right to, simply because I’d been his wife.
“We were young,” Jason rasps brokenly, sobbing. “I should have been better, and I’m sorry. Charly, I’m so sorry.”
“Of course you are,now,” I counter with a bitter bite in my tone. “When your back is literally against a wall.” I nod at Rhys. “And you’re up against someone you can’t intimidate and who for damn sure won’t tolerate you bullying me.”
“Let him try it,” Rhys mutters. He throws the glass at Jason’s feet and backs up to stand beside me, lending me his strength and power without doing anything other than taking my hand in his. “I’ll fucking skin him and hang him on a meat hook.”
And this is exactly why I wanted an antihero. I may have made Rhys Ravenstone an assassin, but the man isn’t a cold-blooded killer. He could have beaten Jason to death or murdered him in a hundred different ways. He did neither. But he could have—wouldhave—for me because antiheroes love getting their hands bloody doing the bad things moral men won’t. More importantly, they light the match for their queen to set fire to the world.
What they don’t do is whine like a little bitch.
“What do you want from me?” he whimpers with a stomp of his foot like he’s a goddamn toddler. “More money? Done. I’ll double your alimony. A bigger house? I’ll build you the biggest house in Harley Cove. I’ll even build one for your grandmother.” He flicks his gaze to Rhys. “Now, call off your dog, Charly.”
Before I can tell Jason to shove all that up his flat ass, Rhys smacks him across the face. Not a punch. Not a manly hit. Nope. A bitch-slap that leaves my ex with a giant red handprint on his cheek.
I’m sorry, but I have to laugh at Jason’s shocked expression. Lisa doesn’t help curb my amusement when she throws herself in front of him to protect her man like a human shield. “For the love of God, move.”
“No!” she cries. “Don’t hit him, please. He can’t take it. You’ll kill him!” she pleads with Rhys.
Jason wraps his arms around her waist, holding her in place, and I gape in astonishment at how cowardly he is—although I honestly shouldn’t be surprised. He’s spent his life hiding behind his parents. Stands to reason he’ll hide behind his pregnant fiancée.
Rhys snorts with disgust. “You make me fucking sick.”
“You?” I snort out. I jab my thumb at him. “I was actually married to this joke. Gross.” I fake a disgusted shiver as I make like I’m gagging. “Tell you what, Jason, let’s call it even.”
“What?” he asks, peeking over Lisa’s head. “What do you mean?”
“This.” I gesture at myself before waving my hand at him. “This awesome moment of humiliation.” I wink at Rhys and flash him an appreciative grin. “We’re even. I walked away from you with a chip on my shoulder and trust issues, and you leave here today with a bruised ego. Deal?”
It’s a fair bargain.
I get closure because seeing Jason piss himself was… *chef’s kiss*
Lisa turns and glances at Jason’s wet crotch before taking the tiniest step backward. Then she cups his face. “Walk away, Jason.” When she spins back around, she strides over to me, chin up, and looks me directly in the eyes. “Women should protect women. I didn’t do that. I owe you an apology, but not today because you won’t accept it. But I owe you one, Charly. I know I do.”
“It’s whatever,” I say, but it’s not whatever, and while we may not have been friends prior to her becoming Jason’s side piece, we were friendly. She backstabbed me, which hurt almost as much as Jason’s betrayal. Like they were laughing at me, and when I nod at Jason, I say to him, “At least she’s not a total piece of shit. You, though…” I pull my hand free of Rhys and march up to Jason. “This never happened. Do you understand? You and Lisa enjoyed the parade today, that’s all. If you eventhinkof causing trouble, you better remember that I spent ten years as a Wembley insider. I learned all your family’s dirty little secrets.” I love the sickened shade of ash he turns when I tap my ear. “You don’t think I listened over the years? Let’s talk for a second about all the conversations I heard with your father bragging about how he robs from his own company and how he hides the money from the IRS. Or how your mother skims from her charities to line the Wembley pockets. That’ssomeof what I heard. Don’t think I won’t air your family’s filthy laundry out all over Harley Cove.” I leap forward and jab a finger against his chest. “Fucking try me, asshole, I dare you.”
But Jason is already shaking his head. He glances frantically at Rhys, then Lisa, before finally back to me. “This never happened.”
“Damn right it didn’t.” And damn, it feels good to threaten him. Smugly, I fold my arms across my chest and notch my chin. “Now, get the hell out of here. I’m done looking at you.”
“Come on, Jason.” Lisa grabs Jason’s hand and pries him away from the wall.
Wobbly and trembling, Jason totters away. He keeps glancing over his shoulder as Lisa tugs him toward the door. But I put them out of my mind the moment they’re gone. I sweep the past behind me and settle my hands on Rhys’s hips, staring at his face. I wish to God—to Cupid—that this man was my future.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“For what?”
“Defending me.”
“Someone needed to.”
He’s wrong. No one needed to defend me, and no one had until today—until him. “Actually, thank you for everything. For being nice to Gram, for the incredible sex, and for…everything. For being you. Thank you for an amazing seven days.”
He kisses the top of my head. “Thank you for downloading the app.”
When I look up at him, Rhys brushes his lips over mine. Nothing about him is possessive. Nothing is demanding. And when he pulls away from me, I want to drag him back into my arms and hold him forever, but I don’t, and by the time we finish cleaning the broken glass, the parade is over. Rhys and I head back to Gram’s house, to St. Crowe Lake, where we’ll have a prime—and uncrowded—spot to watch the fireworks.
