Page 104 of Code Violation

I’m ready to respond when the apartment door flies open, crashing against the wall as Silas stalks toward his brother.

In dark blue jeans, a black jacket and a brown cowboy hat, my boyfriend’s mission is abundantly clear, even before his fist smashes into Kane’s face, blood spraying across the gray tiled flooring.

“Piece of shit! I fucking warned you what would happen if you came near her again!” Silas spits—literally spits—at Kane’s bent-over body.

Pinching his nose, he stands up straight and points at my stomach. “Have you been fucking my woman?”

Silas goes in for another strike, and I rest my hand on his upper arm, asking him to stop.

“Your woman?” I calmly question, adrenaline spiking my heart rate. “I haven’t been your woman in a very long time, Kane. You broke me down, dismantled me, and made me believe that the only man I could ever have was you. Trouble is …” I set a palm over my stomach and look at Silas. “You aren’t a real man, and I’ve kicked the habit of going back to washed-up losers in favor of a pro athlete who can love me and our baby in languages you will never understand.” I point at the door. “Now fuck off.”

33

. . .

Silas

It’s been two weeks since Vesper told Kane to “fuck off,” and I literally kicked him out of her apartment. But the rage I felt at the time still trembles through my body as I recall the events from that night.

When Vesper was in the bath, texting me but then abruptly stopped replying, I got this strange feeling that something wasn’t right. She was either sick again or she wasn’t responding to my messages because she couldn’t. I didn’t even say bye to the guys as I stormed out of the bar we were in, climbed into my truck, and drove a fifteen-minute journey in less than ten, calling Vesper and my brother the whole time. Neither of them picking up the phone.

I knew he was in her apartment the second I saw his car parked in the underground garage and he wasn’t passed out in the driver’s seat, clutching a bottle of whiskey.

Naturally, all financial support that piece of shit blackmailed me into restarting has been canceled, and the morning after Kane forced his way into her apartment, Vesper was in front of a judge, filing for a temporary restraining order, which became permanent today.

I’m fucking mad at myself for not connecting the dots when Kane told me that he’d taken a job as a delivery driver, but I’m so fucking proud of Vesper for the way she handled herself. When she silently asked me to step back so she could deal with Kane herself, I knew the fire inside her—the flames I always knew were in there—was sparking back to life.

Vesper’s role in this world is to make it brighter with her beauty and confidence, not to have it doused by a man who couldn’t handle who she was when he met her so he went about breaking her down until she was a shell of herself.

And I’m honored to be sitting beside her tonight, with one hand on her tiny pregnancy bump, and with my friends seated around a table in Riley’s, celebrating our win over Colorado.

“I think this red sweater dress is my favorite,” I say, plucking at the material across her navel.

Vesper’s wearing her hair down tonight, and when she turns to look at me, sitting beside her in the booth, the fresh scent of her shampoo fills my senses.

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” She crosses her legs like she knows exactly why this dress is my favorite.

“It drives me fucking crazy,” I tease, brushing my fingertips just below the hem. “And then you wore tights, too, and you know what happened last time.”

Her rosy cheeks deepen in color, and I set a kiss against her forehead, closing my eyes and praying that we’ll never see or hear from Kane again.

Forgive me, Mom. I really fucking tried.

“You know, I think we come to this bar too often,” June announces from her position at the end of the booth. “I know Vesper works here, but we’re even here tonight, on her night off.”

From opposite me, Tristan leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. “And we care about your opinion because? You don’t even live in Seattle.”

June’s left brow arches, and I know my forward just walked into his own nightmare. “Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Mr. I’m Always Fucking Right. I’m currently scoping out property in the area because I’m tired of New York and living with my parents.”

Tristan goes to respond, but Will gets there first.

“Erm … why am I only hearing about this now?”

June lifts a casual shoulder, turning her wineglass around on the table. “Because, oh brother, you don’t need to know every little detail about my life. I only publicize things when they’re worth talking about.” She fires a look at Tristan.

He clicks his tongue and takes a sip of beer, setting the glass back down on the table. He’s probably thinking about the interview he did with June, and that was definitely a dig at him.

“Does anyone want another drink?” Tristan changes the subject as he stands and grabs his glass.