I slam my mug down, coffee spilling onto the counter. “You’re a fucking asshole, you know that.”
“Man, you’ve got to put a lid on that crap,” Scott interjects. “You can’t speak like that around her or about her. Show some respect.”
Gar shoves up his middle finger. “I don’t need another lecture. I already got one from the pussy over there.” He points at me. “And contrary to popular belief, I’m not an asshole. I’d never hit on any of your women, so give me a fucking break, and get off my back.”
I’m not sure how much I believe that statement, but I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. “Okay, relax, we’re cool. I’ve told Rod to make arrangements for next weekend, so you’ve all got this week to sort your shit out.”
“And Zeta’s really on board with this?” Scott asks with a hint of disbelief.
I smirk. “She didn’t have much of a choice. I seriously thought she was going to punch me in the nuts when she found out.”
Micah chuckles. “I would’ve loved to have been a fly on the wall for that meeting.”
Because I wasn’t taking any chances, I offered double the market value for the magazine, and the owner didn’t hesitate to accept. The paperwork was pushed through fast, and that’s how I found myself atRockOut’s offices this morning addressing a group of my new employees. Most were shocked and excited. A few were nervous until I explained it was business as usual and there would be no changes. I have zero desire to run a magazine. It was purely a means to an end, so Harrison Meadows will continue in his role as CEO, and he’ll report to Rod and my financial guy. They’ll look after my investment.
Zeta was fuming, and she threw a hissy fit, screaming and shouting and flinging obscenities at me. It was seriously hot, and I don’t know how I resisted body slamming her into the wall and fucking her senseless, but I did. Even the thought of being inside her makes me painfully hard.
I don’t blame her for her reaction.
It was a serious asshole move on my part, but I can’t lose her again, and I’m taking no chances. Once I win her back, I’ll transfer ownership of the magazine into her name or I’ll sell it. Whatever she wants. But I’m not sorry I’ve done this if it means I get a second chance with her. That’s worth every temper tantrum she wants to direct my way.
* * *
I’mat the twenty-four-hour bar around the corner from our usual meeting point, sipping a beer and trying to quell the rage burning me from the inside out.
It’s the same every few months when I have to make the drop-off.
This is the one aspect of my life no one knows about, so I have no choice but to handle this myself even if I truly hate it.
I despise seeing his face up close and personal.
And I loathe handing over the cash.
But he has me by the balls, and we both know it.
So here I am. Eight years later. Still beholden to my past. Still being blackmailed with no end in sight, and it’s playing havoc with my emotions. The nightmares are always more frequent after one of the drop-offs, and it’s why I usually drown myself in drink, drugs, and pussy for days after I’ve faced him, because I just can’t handle thinking about it anymore.
The guilt is never ending.
Guilt for the boy who didn’t get to live his life.
Guilt over abandoning Zeta like that.
Guilt over what I did to Luc.
I’m a bad person.
A selfish asshole, because I should be pushing Zeta away again not trying to reel her back in.
But I need her.
Fuck, do I ever need her.
Since we met again, things have been that little bit more bearable, and I know letting her back into my life will help ease my suffering. That last year in juvie was one of the most stable periods in my life—because of her.
She turned my world from dark to light.
She gave me hope and fostered self-belief.
