Making His Baby(106)
“She’s out fucking someone else, you know. She’s quiet about it, but I know her.” David says.
“You also said she cheated on your during your marriage but have been unable to prove it.” My heartbeat thuds against my eardrums. “Do you have proof now?”
“Nah.” He shrugs. “She’s probably fucking the whole of the Angels right now, know what I mean? She was always slutty. That whole good-girl act was a publicity stunt. We need to use that in court, show it’s just an act.”
“I’d love to.” I grit my teeth. “If you can provide me proof.”
“I should have hired that private investigator months ago.” He chews his lip. “I tried to get her to take me back. Bypass this whole mess, you know. Let her keep living in the house but open up the marriage. I’d still keep my money and the women, she could still keep her home. That’s fucking fair, right?”
My blood pressure skyrockets. I try to remind myself this guy is a piece of trash. That Kate is not technically mine to defend. That we are, indeed, having sex while she is divorcing this human dumpster. None of it matters.
“She refused. Can you believe that? Her little friend threatened to call the cops on me. They said I threatened them or some shit. Complete fabrication. Things are getting desperate over there in Camp Kate.”
“David. Did you threaten someone?”
“God no. I’m not an idiot.”
He definitely threatened someone. Great. I just need to drop David and move the hell on with my life. Maybe I can refer him to someone who I trust, someone who won’t fuck over the woman I love to fuck.
“Anyway. She’s just mad because I fucked her good and then left again.”
Everything slides to a manic halt. A ringing floods my ears.
“You slept with her? Recently?”
“Shit yeah, man. She’s a crazy bitch, but that pussy is sweet. I needed another taste, know what I mean? She loved it, too. Came like three times, cried about how much she still loves me and how she hates how our relationship ended. I told her I needed time to think about it.”
“I thought you offered an open relationship?”
“That was after. She loves the McArthur dick, man. And while it’s great pussy, really, I can’t be held down. There’s so much of me to go around. I know you know what’s up.” He laughs and slaps my desk again. “But seriously, man. She got clingy as hell after we fucked. She was really offended by the idea of sharing me. That must be why they rejected our offer. She’s trying to get me to change my mind.”
“How long ago was this? That you two slept together?” I ask. There’s no way this can be legitimate.
“A few weeks ago. Two, maybe? I came over with roses and told her I missed her. Stripped down naked and jumped me like the hungry bitches at the club. I’ve got pictures somewhere. Thought it would help the case. Guess not.”
“Yeah.” Something inside me collapses. Something sharp. “I guess not.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
KATE
I’ve lost my corkscrew and it’s terribly inconvenient. I could have sworn it was on the counter, but that was a whole bottle of wine ago and plenty has happened since then. It could be anywhere. Back in the drawer, in the trash, the sink.
Not actually in any of those places, but it could have been before I looked.
“Fuck.”
I stare at the bottle and hate it for the injustice it’s serving me. All I want to do is get obliteratingly drunk and forget the world around me. Instead, I’m left with a strong buzz and no way to continue my own destruction.
“It’s a twist top, Kate.”
I scream and grab a knife from the block on the counter. Hannah holds up her hands and smiles, apologizing.
“I knocked but you didn’t answer. I wanted to drop off some boxes for the gala. You asked me to bring them by earlier.”
“Shit.” I drop the knife in the sink and grasp my chest to still my heart. “I thought you were David.”
“You need a knife for David?” Hannah’s brow knits together. “I knew it was bad, but holy shit, Kate. Do I need to arrange security for your apartment?”
“I should have thought of that weeks ago.” How did I not think of that? Oh, right, I was too busy being consumed by Eric Stevens. The man I fell in love with and bared my soul to, only to be dropped and ignored. “Maybe. Probably. What were you saying about my wine bottle when you nearly scared me to death?”
“It’s a twist top.” Hannah takes it from me and opens it. “I guess you’ve had a bad day.”
I snort so hard it spirals into a coughing fit. Bad day just scratches the surface. I thought I had bad days in the past. Today proved I had no idea what one really was until now.