A few hours later
When I’m done filling out paperwork for the business and making some calls, I sit down on my living room couch and take a minute for myself. I haven’t thought about what I’m going to do with Charlotte yet, and maybe I’ve been working so hard to keep my mind off it. I used to enjoy making her suffer, but now all it does is make me want to punch myself. God, how a woman can change a man.
I sigh out loud and rub my forehead.
Suddenly, my phone rings, and I pick it up.
“Hello.”
“Davis here. I received your message … and its contents.”
A smirk forms on my lips. I shouldn’t be so damn satisfied because I hurt my princess, but his shrill, shaky voice makes me so goddamn happy. “I’m glad you received them.”
“I’m tired of your games, Van Buren,” he growls. “You didn’t need to send those.”
“I didn’t need to, but I did anyway,” I reply.
It’s too late to take them back anyway, so I might as well enjoy the show.
“How long will you keep this up? How much more do you need to punish me for God knows what reason?” he snaps.
I clench the phone tight. “As long as it takes to get the message across.”
“Oh, I got the message … loud and clear.”
“Good,” I retort. “Then you know I won’t stop until you’re miserable.”
“I already am!” he yells, and the sheer admission is like an orgasm to my soul. “My business hangs by a thread because of what you did, and you continue to humiliate me with my daughter. What else do you want from me?”
A vicious smirk spreads on my lips. “Everything.”
“I have nothing more to give,” he says with a stoic voice. “Why can’t you leave me alone? You have Charlotte; you got what you wanted.”
“Yes, I do, but not thanks to you,” I hiss. “I almost lost her permanently because of you threatening that little girl!”
“If I hadn’t, you wouldn’t have found out her address,” he spits back.
“Fuck you. Why are you even calling?” I growl even as I’m tempted to hang up on him.
“Because I need to know if this will ever end. You have Charlotte, but she’ll never like you.”
“What did you just say?” The phone practically cracks from my grip.
“You know she only plays pretend.” He snorts. “She’s a captive, and you know it.”
“You don’t know anything about her,” I quip.
“I’m her father. I know her better than any man ever will. That girl can’t be contained. She will always run away from any man who attempts to tame her.”
Tsk. He’s only trying to mess with my head now, probably as retribution for sending him those pics. “She hates your guts. You don’t know shit about her.”
“I know enough. She will run away from you again and again, and then what? You’ll come to me because I couldn’t keep my word and let you have her. My life is on the line. How do you know she won’t run back to that man and his little girl?”
My lips part, but I don’t have a quick answer to take away the doubt nestling in my heart.
“That’s the thing, Easton. You don’t know, and you never will. You might’ve taken her from him, but you can never keep her away from what she really wants. And if she ends up running, and I end up losing my life … that’s not worth it to me.”
“Stop worrying about your goddamn pitiful life. And don’t fucking call me anymore,” I growl before hanging up the phone and throwing it across the room in a bout of rage.
I pace around the room, thinking about all the possible scenarios our doomed marriage could have and how many times she’ll still run away after I chase her off … if she’ll ever love me.
And her dad, who always tries to get in the way.
Fuck.
Even after I’ve got him down in the dirt, he still manages to unhinge me.
She won’t fucking run back to Deion. She wouldn’t, right? Not after her admission in the tub. I don’t believe it. It’s not possible.
Still, that fucker managed to plant a seed of doubt in my mind, and it pisses me off.
I sit back down on the couch to stew in my own rage, staring at a plate filled with chocolates and mints Jill put there. I’m not at all in the mood for an after-dinner snack right now. The only thing I want is to retrace my steps and erase what I did.
I shouldn’t have sent him those fucking images. That fucker Davis deserves every bit of punishment he can get but not if it costs me her love. She was almost there, ready to love me back, and I wasted it all with my greed for retribution. God, I need a fucking drink.
I get up from the couch and waltz into the kitchen, but the sight of Nick with Jill stops me in my tracks. He’s holding her hand as she leans in with her head down. What’s going on here?
They both turn their heads, and the moment our eyes lock, they immediately let go of each other. Nick clears his throat, and Jill swipes away a single tear from her cheeks.
“I didn’t expect to see you here, sir,” Jill says, her tone of voice shifting constantly.
“In my own home?” I muse, cocking my head.
“Sorry, sir. I didn’t mean it that way. I … of course you can go anywhere you want,” she says, clearing her throat too.
“I’ll get going then. I’ve got more errands to run for the club,” Nick says, leaving us both but not before giving Jill’s shoulder a gentle pet.
Is something happening that I’m not aware of?
I frown and look at Jill. “Is there something I need to know?”
“No, sir. We were just talking …” she answers, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Talking? About what?” I step closer and touch the kitchen island.
“Well, you know, our life here … work.” She giggles and shrugs. “Stuff like that.”
“Right.” I narrow my eyes. She’s probably not telling me the truth, but I’ll let it go for now. “As long as you’re still loyal to me, I’m fine with it.”
“What?” Her pupils dilate, and her cheeks turn bright red. “Of course, we’re still loyal to you. Nothing will get in the way of that.”
“Good.” I grab a glass from the cabinet. After what I just witnessed, I could use a refreshing drink.
“Oh, here, let me do that,” Jill says, snatching the glass from my hand before I can even put it under the tap.
She hands me the glass, and I mutter, “Thanks.”
“If you want, I can drop by with some coffee and chocolates for Charlotte too,” she adds.
“That’d be great,” I reply.
“She seemed a little upset,” Jill adds.
I make a face. Such a sly girl for including that sentence after the fact. “You’re aware of everything, aren’t you?”
She blushes again. “Sorry, I hear a lot”—she smiles—“but it stays within these walls.”
“I hope so,” I reply.
“I think she could use some one-on-one girl talk,” she says. “You know.”
“No, I don’t know,” I reply, which makes her smile again. “Why would she need that?”
“Well, you know, since you two are …”
I lift a brow, but she doesn’t finish her sentence.
“Are what? Fighting?”
“Something like that.” She gulps. “Look, I know I shouldn’t—”
“Meddle in my business,” I fill in for her. “But you can’t help yourself.”
Her lips part as she sucks in a breath.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she says. “But it’s hard not to notice. And she seems quite upset.”
“How much do you know?” I ask, clutching the kitchen table.
“She told me that you two had an argument about the cameras … and her love for you.”
“Ahh …” So they talk about me now. Interesting. “When did she come here?”
“Right after your fight. I gave her some tea and a snack,” she says. “I don’t mean to speak out of turn, but maybe you could ease up on her a little? Show her you love her without being so angry?” she hints, fiddling with her fingers.
I rub my lips together. She’s pushing it now. “Angry? That’s what you think I am?”
“Well, you come off that way to her. But she doesn’t like feeling that way about you. I can tell.”
“How?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. From the way she looks at you … How she touches you …” She stares at the kitchen table, at my hands, and then lets out a sigh. “Women know these things. We recognize it.”
“So you think she loves me?” I ask.
“I believe she hates the fact that she does,” she says, sucking on her bottom lip for a second. “But there’s still hope if you show her your good side.”
I take a sip of my water. The moment of silence in the room is deafening. “How?”
“By apologizing.”
I almost spit out my water.
“I mean it. Apologize to her. Beg her for forgiveness,” she says.
“For what?” I scoff.
“For doing everything you can to make her hate you. For being an obnoxious prick who only cares about revenge instead of the woman who’s waiting for him to act like a husband!” The moment she spits the words out, she covers her mouth with her hand and shakes her head. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know where that came from.”
I take another long sip of my drink and put down the glass. Still, a big, fat smile forms on my face. “That’s an honest admission.”
She lowers her hands and approaches me. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s refreshing.” I nod. “And the truth.” I chug down my drink until the glass is empty and place it on the kitchen counter. “So what should I do then? Besides the groveling?”
“Remove the cameras. Apologize about sending the footage to her father.”
My eyes widen. “Remove the cameras?” I growl. “No, they’re my—”
“Control,” she interjects. “You use it to control her. And she knows this. But it also means she can’t love you.” She takes a step closer and grabs my hand. “Women want and need to feel like they give you their love freely. Not that you can just take it when you want. Love has to be earned.”
Her hand is warm around mine … different from Charlotte’s but soft and delicate still.
“And how do you suggest I earn it?” I ask.
“By giving her what she wants the most,” she says, a melancholic smile adorning her face. “That which she has always wanted.”
My courage and heart sink into my shoes.
There’s no way I can ever give her that … not without abandoning everything I ever desired and everything I felt was owed to me. Her.
She craves her freedom, but I can’t give that to her without losing my only goal in this life; to have her be mine forever and to destroy her father’s business and his life.
But how can I have both?
“I can’t,” I say, shaking my head.
“Yes, you can.” Jill squeezes my hand. “Don’t give up so quickly. You know it’s possible. There must be something you can give her that doesn’t cost you anything.”
I close my eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. “Maybe. But it might mean losing her to another.”
“If you have faith in your attraction, and you know she’s on the verge of wanting you too, then you need to risk it,” she says, glaring me straight in the eyes. “Take a leap of faith.”
She’s so damn smart for a woman her age.
“I believe in you,” she says, stepping closer. Her hand rises, and she wriggles her fingers through my hair, brushing it down along my neckline, where her hand stays. “I always have.”
When she leans in to press a kiss to my forehead, I’m stunned. Taken aback by this sudden gesture.
But before I can respond, the moment passes, and she turns around and walks off.
