Clint turns, giving me the perfect opening as a sly grin spreads across his face. “You got your hat back,” he says smugly. “Maybe she did put out after all.”
I should probably listen to my conscience and back away before I lose my shit. Unfortunately for Clint, that part of me isn’t in charge today. My anger has a firm grip on the reins, and Loverboy is about to find out what happens when you talk shit about my girl.
My fist connects with his nose with a sickening crack. Another punch lands on his jaw, and he stumbles backward. I shake out my hand against the painful recoil, preparing to lunge again.
Wilder grabs me from behind and pulls me away. “He’s not worth it.”
“What the fuck,” Clint says, his voice muffled by his hands. “I think you broke my fucking nose.”
“You had that one coming.” Griffin’s like a coach for bad decisions, and he’s always on the winning team. “I’d keep my goddamn mouth shut if I were you.”
Clint pulls a rag out of his back pocket to staunch the bleeding. “Son of a bitch, that hurts.”
“You'll live.” I shrug off Wilder’s grip and stare pointedly at Clint. “If you ever talk about Callie like that again, you’ll be out of a job.”
Despite the rapidly forming bruise on his jaw and the blood-soaked fabric in his fist, there’s still a challenge in his eyes. “Haven't seen you this fucked up over a girl in years. What was the name of the redhead you and Ryan were fucking?”
Griffin mutters a quiet expletive as I lunge for Clint again. He darts away like a fucking coward.
“Keep his fucking name out of your mouth,” I growl. “Last fucking warning, Clint. Remember who signs your paychecks.”
He holds up his hands in surrender and backs away. “Ok. Alright. My bad.”
Hank leads Clint away from the scene, and the tension dissipates. I rub my aching knuckles and wince at the small bite of pain. I probably opened us up to a helluva lawsuit, but it was worth it.
“You good?” Griffin asks.
I pick up my hat and dust off the dirt before replacing it on my head. “Never better.”
“You’re going to an awful lot of trouble defending a woman you’re definitelynotin love with.” Wilder’s amused voice fades as I get farther away from the scene. “Remember that time I punched Liv’s ex? Yeah, I wasn’t in love with her either.”
I toss up a middle finger and head back the way I came. I can’t do this secretive shit with Callie anymore. I can’t pretend I don’t want her every minute of every goddamn day with every fiber of my being. I sure as shit can’t let another disgusting prick like Clint fucking Campbell have a shot with her because I waited too long to tell her how I feel.
A plan starts to form in my mind, and I head back to the house, determined to make Callie see me for who I really am, come hell or high water.
Chapter 20
Beneath the Mask
?I don’t Remember Me (Before You)
- Brothers Osborne
Callie
Jaxon barrelsthrough the front door like the devil’s chasing him and shoots right past where I’m sitting in the living room without so much as a greeting. Atticus hops off my lap and saunters after him down the hallway.
Traitor.
“What crawled up his ass and died?” I mutter to myself as I trace the letter C with a vibrant pink marker. Next, I trace the letter U… N… then T. I get lost in the soft strokes of color against the paper of my adult coloring book, quieting my mind and losing all track of time.
Jaxon reappears sometime later, freshly showered and much less surly. He’s not wearing his glasses today, and his emerald eyes somehow hold more depth. He peers over my shoulder at the psychedelic expletive and chuckles. “That’s the prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen some pretty ones.”
“Oh my god. Why are you the way you are?”
“Delightfully playful?” He shrugs. “Probably has something to do with all the emotional damage.”
I pinch my lips shut, refusing to play into his game. “I was going to make coffee. Want some?”
