“Who are we looking for?”
“Seth Groves.”
He’s quiet again, probably because he knows exactly who that is.
“Anything you wanna tell me?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Nope. Just need to check in on him. Think you can get the address?”
He sighs on the other end. “West—”
“I just need the address. Can you do that?”
Another deep breath. “Yeah. I can do that.”
“Thanks. Call me the second you have something. I’m already on the road.”
“I got you.”
The call ends there, and I grip the steering wheel, picturing that asshole in my head, putting hisfuckinglips on my wife.
I can hardly think or see straight, but one thing’s for damn sure…
I’ll be thinking extremely fucking clear when I find Seth.
Chapter Twenty-Six
West
The rain is falling in sheets by the time I turn onto Seth’s street.
I’m a house away when I kill the engine, sitting there, listening as water pelts the roof of my SUV. His porch light’s on, but the windows of the house are all dark.
I slip out of the sling. My shoulder’s throbbing because I wasn’t mindful of it as I drove, but my thoughts are singular.
Focused.
Find out what the hell this asshole was thinking.
I step out of the car, and my shirt and hair are soaked within seconds, but it hardly registers as I stare at his front door, doing all I can to keep my shit together. I’m not here to kick his ass, but I swear to God I want to.
More than anything.
He just needs to hear directly from me how things will go from here.
So there are no misunderstandings. No confusion.
My fist slams his door when I knock, and I remind myself to breathe. This can go several different ways, but I’m committed to keeping things civil.
Mostly.
A light switches on in the foyer, the lock clicks, then I’m looking into the eyes of the man who just kissed my wife.
“West,” he sighs.
“I’m guessing you know why I’m here.”
His nostrils flare with frustration, like my being here isn’t completely warranted. “Relax. Yes, I made a mistake, but—”
