Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
“You think it’s Pops?” I cut in, then laugh. I wish that were the only reason I feel like obliterating everyone around me every second of every damn day.
But it’s not.
It’s her.
Always her.
“Mayve.” He says her name, and that’s all it takes for me to step up to him, pull my gun, and put it to his neck.
He doesn’t even flinch.
He just looks me in the eyes.
The same eyes as mine stare back at me, though his are less tortured.
“Why aren’t you with her? And the house? Really?” He scoffs, not even caring when I push the gun harder against his neck.
“I’m not with her because I choose not to be.”
“Do you forget who you’re talking to?” He laughs and pushes the gun away from his neck. “I know you as well as I know myself, so stop this fucking shit and get yourself together.” He moves away and looks over his shoulder. “If you want her, tell her. I bet you haven’t tried that route.”
“She doesn’t want me,” I reply.
“Are you sure of that? Not many women I know would marry you. Especially knowing who you are and what you like, but you haven’t talked to her, so how do you fucking know for sure.”
I know he’s right. But that still doesn’t convince me of anything. Mayve’s been trying to get rid of me at every step, and yet I cling to her.
I don’t even get why.
I stay, and I offer her things, things I would never offer anyone.
Yet, for her, it’s like word vomit.
Sure, I’ll marry you. This coming from someone who never wanted to get married.
Yet I did it without a second thought.
Poison is what she is to me. Poison that got into my bloodstream, and I can’t seem to get rid of it, no matter how hard I try to remove it. The poison remains and creeps its way slowly into my heart until I want to explode.
I want to burn down the world.
I want to ignite everything around me.
I want to…
“Kenzo,” he says my name, but I don’t bother looking at him.
“End it or fucking tell her. Pick one because otherwise, I’ll help you with the problem.”
“She isn’t a problem,” I growl.
“You have your answer, then, don’t you.” He gets into his car, and I stand beside my bike, gun in hand, as I watch him drive off.
Now wondering if I should kill my own brother.
Wouldn’t be the first time I contemplated that.
Twenty-Seven
Mayve
The rain is heavy, and so is my heart. Ironic, really. I’ve done nothing but stay in bed all week, order takeout, and do zero around the house. It feels like I’m mourning a loss, but I’m unsure what. Is it the fake relationship we had?
My heels click as I walk into the office.
Emma sees me first, and she sighs in relief. Rushing to me, she throws her arms around my body and hugs me. “You’re back! Please don’t go again.” She huffs, her hands holding my upper arms as she pulls back, her expression pleading. “Please?” she begs. “Did you get it sorted?”
“What?”
“The divorce,” she whispers.
Oh, yes, that. As requested, he sent me new papers, but I haven’t signed them yet.
“Why do you still have on the ring?” Her gaze zeroes in on my hand, which is wrapped around my purse strap.
“I like the ring.” I shrug and hold up my hand for a better look at it.
“But not the man?” she questions.
“He…” I couldn’t answer her question even if I tried. How do you explain that someone you only know pieces of, that somehow those pieces make you feel whole? “Anyway, I’m keeping the ring.” I end that conversation and pull away.
“Yeah, girl power.” She thrusts her fists in the air. “I bet it’s worth a pretty penny anyway, so you could always sell it and buy a car.” I didn’t think of it like that, but as I examine it on my hand, I know I wouldn’t do that. Ever.
“Mayve.” I turn my head to see Jeff waving me down. “A minute, please.” He ducks back into his office, and Emma takes my things before I turn to follow him. When I get there, I find Marco sitting on the couch, looking casually relaxed, when he is anything but. He holds a sense of power to him, one that I’m unsure of. It’s deadly, but to me, he can be friendly, though I have a feeling he isn’t that way with many people. It's probably because I’m helping him with his money.
“Thanks, take a seat. We need to discuss a few things.” I sit in the only other available spot, next to Marco. “Marco has some concerns.”
I turn my head to him to find his gaze already on me. “Is everything okay?” I ask him.
“Can you handle my workload?” he asks me.