And he has the rest of the lipstick on his face.
“Stop fucking the housekeeper,” Jaxon warns. “I’m serious. I’m going to have to fire her.”
“I haven’t!” Owen defends himself. “I swear. She’s too old for me.”
“She’s only five years older than you,” Heaven points out. “Old man.”
“Exactly. Too old,” Owen tugs on the lapels of his suit. “So we doing this? When does this show go down?”
“Hour and forty-five. Let’s get ready.”
An hour and a half later I’m downstairs and rolling my eyes while doing my best not to grab a gun to blow her brains out. All I keep thinking about is Dillon. As long as I have him in mind, everything will be fine.
“You know your role?” I ask Owen who is standing by the door with his hands clasped in front of him. I’ve asked him a hundred times, but I have to make sure he knows, or all of this will be for nothing.
“Grayson, ask me that again and I swear you won’t fuck Finley again. You’re annoying me.”
“Don’t threaten me like that—” My warning is cut short when headlights pull into the driveway. “Oh, fuck. She’s here.” I glance around and see all the candles lit, the food sitting out, the rose petals on the floor, and it doesn’t feel right.
Finley deserves all this, not my bitch of any ex.
“Doctor Gladstone? Are you ready?” I shout down the hall.
“Yes! Let’s get this over with already. I’m missing my show,” he hisses.
“Everyone has something to do,” Owen says.
I walk to the couch and sit in the shadows, drinking a large gulp of bourbon from my scotch glass. I cross my leg over my knee and lurk in the darkness, waiting for her to walk through the door. I haven’t seen her in so many years. Part of me is anxious since it’s been so long. This is the woman I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with, and she ruined me for a long time. I lived in the despair she put me in for far too long. I blame myself for that. For not being smarter, stronger. For not being a better man to pull me out of the pitiful, pathetic person I had become.
That might be who I was, but that isn’t who I am; not anymore.
I’m ten times the man I used to be, and I can’t wait to prove it. Dillon will understand eventually. He might ask about his mom one day, and I’ll tell him the truth. Or maybe I’ll tell him after he recovers.
He deserves to know the man I am.
“She’s coming,” Owen warns me, and I put on my game face.
Show time.
The fire of the candles sway seductively, projecting my shadow against the wall. I bring the bourbon to my lips again and let the burn of the amber scorch my throat. The moment I’ve been waiting for is finally here. She isn’t leaving this house.
“Good Evening, Miss Johnson,” Owen greets her at the door, opening it for her. I glance around the large, unused space that’s at the end of the hall and wonder for a brief second why this isn’t the game room. The hallway is full of medical rooms and hospital equipment, but this room has to be good for something. More than this.
Unless we dedicate it to slaughter only.
What a fucked up thought.
“May I take your coat?” he asks.
“Yes, thank you,” she purrs, and her voice has the hairs on the back of my neck raising. Everything she ever did to me is vivid. I remember her lies in the courtroom, her fake tears, or maybe they weren’t fake. She was raped, by Trevor, and for that I am sorry. To put that on me? To ruin my life? Yeah, payback is a bitch. “Who am I meeting here?” she asks excitedly.
I flip on the light above me and remain seated. “Hello, Kendall.” I manage to sound thrilled to see her even though there is a huge ball of ‘kill the poisonous bitch’ lodged in my throat. “Long time, no see.”
“Grayson?” she gasps and backs away as I stand, buttoning my suit. She looks fucking terrible. Her hair has lost it’s luster, she is skin and bone, probably from drugs, and the red dress hangs on her body instead of hugging her curves.
Like Finley’s. Mmm, fuck. My woman is divine.
“What is this?” She starts to panic.
Good. I want to see fear. The monster that’s been hiding inside me is being brought to the surface.
“I hear you wanted to try to take my son away.” I take a sip of my drink and pour myself another glass, not offering her one. She doesn’t deserve a drop of my imported whiskey. “And I have a real problem with that, Kendall. A lot of problems, actually. I know you’re trying to put him up for sale like he’s a house or a car. I know you don’t give a fuck about him. I know you don’t care that he’s sick, but guess what? He is with me now, and I care. And you forgot the kind of man I am because the man I was, wasn’t worth remembering. This man? This man you should fear.” I gulp down my drink and roll my shoulders. “Tell me, what the hell could be more important than your son?”
“Money,” she sneers, her lipstick smeared across her teeth. Her mascara is too thick, and her eyeliner is smudged underneath her lower lash line. “I need money.” Then she looks around and sees the wealth. She sways her hips and raises her hand to my chest. “I know we didn’t leave on the best of terms, but if you give me the money I need, I’ll go away. You’ll never have to worry again.”
I lay my hand over hers and laugh. “You’re a goddamn succubus, Kendall.
