How I’ve had zero time with my kids.
How I have no relationship with them.
How I haven’t even been able to bring them home yet.
“I still don’t believe you,” I leer, my blood boiling in my veins. I’ve never hated someone so much in my life as I do him. “You’ve shown your true colors. I’m not going to be with—“ That must set Alexander off the deep end of guilty because he’s on his feet and round my table, exposing Bishop doing the same, waiting for Alexander to make a stupid move.
I form a quick motion downward with my fingers for Bishop to sit down when Alexander towers over me at my side.
“Come with me,” he says desperately. “Somewhere that—“
“Why so you can stab me again?” I peer up at him and hold my placid expression. “Or did you upgrade to a gun with a silencer on it?”
His brows furrow. “No, I want to talk about—“
“Sit down and I’ll tell you my terms.” I pull my focus from him and look dead ahead at my husband who is still staring at me.
I’ve loved you since before we got married.
When I tell you that I replayed that sentence in my head about eighty times, I’m not over exaggerating.
To be frank, I asked him to repeat it again the next morning because I thought I had imagined it.
And he repeated it, over and over again until I came and then he told me again.
Alexander complies with what I ask him to do, and I focus on the tedious mission at hand. He needs to believe that there might be a clue of us working out. That I might forgive him and live happily ever after with him at my side.
“I want you to revise your will,” I assert, folding my hands together on the table. “I want the twins to be set up financially in case you try to hurt me again.” His hand suddenly shoots out and grabs mine, squeezing it tightly as if to promise me that he won’t and startling me in the process.
It only tells me that I’m not immune fully to this man. That a twinge of fear bunks with me.
“Emmy, I want to marry you. I can never take back what I did but you have to believe me…”
“I need to go.” I attempt to yank my hand but he only holds on tighter. It only prods at the flashback of him repeatedly stabbing me. The terror I felt that he’d hit one of the babies in my womb.
“Please.” Alexander becomes another blur and a real sob begins to form in my throat. “I’ve been devastated. I can’t forgive myself—I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you.”
I stare at the sugar shaker on the table. “You did more than hurt me. You almost killed our kids.”
“They’re mine?” He stretches my arm to get closer to him. “Emmy…those babies…”
“Unfortunately,” I ground out flatly. “Let go of my hand.”
“Holy shit, I can’t believe—babe, this is it. This is how we can start over. Fuck, I’d do anything for you and the kids.”
“Not until I’m ready.” I compel myself to face him again. My fucking God, it takes everything in me to stare back at him and not want to stab him with the closest thing possible. To not shake uncontrollably because, yes, I’m scared of him. “I don’t trust you.”
He nods repeatedly. “I know, I know. We’ll take this slow. Anything you need. We’ll do everything your way.” I feel as though I’m going to throw up, which gives him another opportunity to speak. “When can I see you again?”
“In a public place.” I pull my hand and he releases me, leaving behind a warm and eerie feeling running through my flesh. “Let me know when the will is revised. I want a copy.”
“Of course. I’ll bring it next time we meet.”
I know you will, asshole, because I’m hacked into all your shit.
I feel the heaviness of his gaze and I peer up to find him gaping at me like I’m still not here. My surprise did more than I wanted it to do.
“I’ll call yo—“
“Text me,” I retort then avert my gaze. “You have a lot of ass-kissing to do, Alexander.”
“I know.” He rises and opens his mouth but thinks better of it. Then slowly backs away and towards the door, giving me one last look before leaving the coffee shop.
My husband is in his chair within a minute of his departure, scowling and clearly pissed off.
“How many times were you going to let him touch you, wife?” I trail my narrowed eyes to Bishop, possessiveness and disdain dripping off his features. I’d love to frolic in it, but I’m shook as fuck right now.
Now that Bishop has proclaimed those famous three words I’ve been waiting years to hear, he’s more territorial than normal and a girl can get a big head from such shit when she doesn’t have to face her attempted killer.
“As many times as it took for him to do what I ask,” I reply, keeping my neutral face on. “Don’t worry, I’ll save a few punches for you before I kill him.”
“Did he buy it?” I nod and Bishop moves chairs to the one closest to me. “You okay?”
“I just need to keep moving.” I meet his blues that are now calmer. “I want my kids safe.”
“And they will be. I’ll make certain nothing happens to them, baby.” I give him a weak smile, and his palm falls on my knee underneath the table. “I have to meet up with Hardy and Scarlett. I’m going to be staying down there for two days.”
“Make sure you get a picture with you and Mickey Mouse.”
“I want you to come with me.”
I lift a brow. “Me? I can’t, I have this thing to do, and I owe Kai a favor.”
“Who?”
Oh, geezus, Christ.
“The guy who saved Mills in the woods when you…”
His face turns deadly. “The fucker who shot my dog?”
“I’ll deal with that. I promise.” I rise from my
