I manage to open my next bottle of wine and take a single swig straight from the bottle before it rings again.
Ashton chuckles awkwardly when I answer. “Are you there? I think we have a bad connection. The call cut off and?—”
“Did you put Chase in the hospital?” I cut in. I don’t bother to hide the anger coloring my voice. I know one of them did it. I don’t believe for one second this was a coincidence, not with what I know about them now. It’s just a question of which one was responsible.
There’s a long pause.
“Okay,” Ash says, his voice unsteady. “I, uh…didn’t think you’d find out this fast. Give me a second. I was just?—”
And there’s my answer.Click. But as soon as I end the call, he’s calling back again.
“What?” I snap into the phone.
“Just let me explain,” Ash starts.
Click.
My next gulp of wine is bitter and acidic on my tongue, and it sticks in my throat when I try to swallow.Stupid Shiraz.
I’m not sure why he would even bother trying to explain it. Nearly killing my ex can’t be the worst thing he’s done. Who knows how many people Ashton has put in the hospital?
Or how many people he’s killed.
When he calls again, I pick up and hiss, “Why are you still calling me?”
“Babygirl, what’s going on? Are you drunk?” He sounds genuinely concerned, like he’s worried about me. But between the pain gripping my chest, the storm of rage brewing inside me, and the copious amount of wine in my system, I can’t seem to find the energy to care.
“I amextremelydrunk, in fact. Maybe the drunkest I’ve ever been,” I say. I’m genuinely proud of how little I’m slurring. “You’ve been lying to me. All of you.”
Ashton takes a steadying breath. “Listen, I know Doc and Viper scared you. And there’s a lot about our world you don’t understand, but I?—”
Click.
Nope. We’re not doing that.
I’m not playing the dumb, naive girl anymore. They are dangerous, cheating, manipulative bastards. And now he wants to twist it like this is just about me not understanding theirworld?Like this is my fault? No. I refuse to be blamed for someone else’s fuckups. I refuse to be manipulated by a man ever again.
When the phone rings again, almost immediately, my temper finally snaps. I’m done.
“Fuck off, Ash,” I spit into the phone when I answer, without giving him the chance to speak. “Stopcalling me. I need space. Space fromall of you. I don’t want to hear from you. I don’t want to see you. I want you all toleave mealone.”
His quick intake of breath tells me he’s going to respond, but before he can, I say, “Call me again tonight and I will block your number. Try me.”
I hang up and glare down at the screen, daring him to call my bluff. This time, he doesn’t call back. I wait a few more minutes before turning my phone off and tossing it across the room.
One night, I promise myself, as I swallow another mouthful of wine. I’ll give myself just one night to be broken. I won’t let myself fall apart like I did the last time a man hurt me. If there’s anything positive that I can take from the last few months, it’s that I am bigger than any relationship. No matter how much this hurts, no matter how much pain they caused me, I won’t let this break me. I’m stronger than that. Theyshowed methat I’m stronger than that.
So tonight, I’ll wallow.
I’ll feel sorry for myself.
I’ll likely vomit.
But tomorrow is a new day.
I do vomit.
I vomit more than I thought a human body could possibly manage.
