Chapter Sixteen
Slade felt like a caged lion atthe zoo.
He hated hotel rooms. He’d once spent almost four whole days locked up in one with Jennifer, the two of them unable to keep their hands off each other. It had been early in their relationship. Back when he was just a kid, really. The good ol’ days, he liked to refer to it. Back when he’d been stupid enough to believe the woman loved him.
Speaking of Jennifer…
His phone was blowing up again, but he’d silenced it earlier in the day when they’d been with Brantley and Reese. No matter what he told her, Jennifer wouldn’t stop texting. At first, when she’d started messaging him months ago, Slade had been blindly hoping that she’d realized the error of her ways. It had taken him about thirty seconds of talking to her to realize she was up to her old games. His ex-wife was no longer happy, and she was looking for a way out.
Slade hadn’t given her the opportunity to use him as an escape route. Not this time. Despite their near knock-down drag-out, Jennifer wasn’t taking no for an answer. She mistakenly believed Slade would eventually take her back.
As if.
Ten years ago. Most definitely.
Five years ago. Maybe.
Now. No fucking way.
He would be a fool to believe Jennifer was anything more than a self-centered bitch looking out for only one person—herself—and using everyone around her as a source of entertainment.
That was what Slade had been for her. A puppet she could maneuver however she wanted. Someone she could get to do things for her that no one else would do. Hell, he’d done thingswithher that he’d never fathomed doing, period.
In some ways, Jennifer had changed him. He’d opened his eyes to other possibilities because of her. He seriously doubted she knew that.
“You gonna answer that?” Atticus asked from his spot on the couch. He had his foot propped on the cheap wooden coffee table, the remote in his hand, and aimed at the television.
“No.”
“You ever considered blocking the number?”
He had. In fact, Slade had blocked Jennifer’s number on more than one occasion. But he’d always removed it, fearful Jennifer might one day need him for something. As much as he hated her, he cared about her well-being, and well, the truth was, Jennifer wasn’t exactly mentally stable. He worried that one day she might ask for the help she truly needed.
It was another lie he was telling himself in his effort to pretend his marriage hadn’t been one giant waste of time. Although he liked to blame Spencer for his marriage failing, his brother wasn’t the only one at fault. Jennifer was the one who was always seeking comfort from someone. She claimed she’d never gotten it from Slade, hence her reasons for running into the arms (and beds) of numerous other men. For the longest time, Slade had thought he’d done wrong by her, that he hadn’t given her what she needed.
But the truth was, he’d tried. He’d really tried to make Jennifer happy. The problem was she would never be satisfied. Didn’t matter who she was with; Jennifer was not going to be content with her life because she was searching for something that wasn’t out there.
Atticus’s phone chimed.
On Slade’s return pace toward the window, he glanced at the man, watching as Atticus looked at his phone, smiling as he did.
“Please tell me that’s not my brother,” Slade grumbled.
“It’s not.”
“Yeah, right,” he muttered.
Atticus’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowed. “Why would I lie to you about that?”
“I don’t know. Why do you lie about anything?”
“I don’t.”
“Right.”
“What’s your problem, man?”
That was a damn good question. One Slade didn’t have an answer for. He knew the kid didn’t deserve his wrath. The other night at Moonshiners, after Slade had confronted his brother, he’d thought Atticus had left with him. He hadn’t been surprised. What little he knew about Atticus James made Slade believe him to be a liar and a cheat. He would do whatever was necessary to get his way.
