Snake (a Stepbrother Romance)(43)

My marriage was over, and my other half was walking out on me with all of her earthly possessions and the man she had chosen over me.

This is what you wanted, I reasoned.

I have no idea what came over me in that moment. Frustration at Mila not waiting for me? Not returning my calls? But my mouth became set in a determined line and I began to walk after Monique.

“Taking the walk of shame?” I asked her bitterly and she spun around, her mouth opened in a surprised o-shape.

“Dev, I was just getting my things,” she said, trying to remain calm. Too bad I was raging, my blood boiling and ready to attack my ex or her slime of a boyfriend, who was fidgeting nervously a few steps away.

“What have you said to Mila? Why isn’t she here?”

Monique paused for a second and frowned at my question. “Devan, I haven’t a clue. I haven’t seen her.”

“I know you did something, Monique. Can’t stand it when anyone else is happy. You’re a cheating bitch,” I told her calmly, and my soon-to-be-ex-wife’s eyes widened in shock. I wasn’t a man who cussed often, but somehow, I couldn’t stop.

“You disgust me,” I snarled, focusing my eyes on her boss. “And you, taking advantage of her behind my back, you sick fuck. She’s a married woman… You should be ashamed of yourself, you prick.”

But as the words travelled out of my mouth, I wasn’t sure who I was aiming them at. My soon to be ex-wife and her lover, or myself? Mila was my stepsister… had I taken advantage of her? Was I disgusted at myself? At my own behaviour?

“Devan, would you calm down?” Monique asked, her panicked eyes searching our surroundings to see if any of the neighbours had caught on to the commotion. “There are people around, and it’s late.”

“Whatever, tramp. You soul sucking vampire,” I growled low in my throat, and Monique’s boss sprang forward to defend her. But as soon as I turned towards him, menacing and a head taller, he shrunk back into the corner where he belonged.

“Go play your twisted little games, Monique,” I shouted at my wife. “Get the fuck out of my life.”

I saw actual hurt register in her eyes, and it almost made me regret all the terrible things I’d said to her. But before I could react, she came striding up to me, giving me a cold-hearted look.

“I’m leaving now, Devan,” she said, ice in her voice. But then her mouth twisted into a twisted but triumphant smile. “Oh and guess what? I’m pregnant.”

With that admission, my whole world came crashing at my feet. My mouth gaped open as Monique stared me down, so many questions rushing through my head.

“It’s not yours. Thank god,” she condemned me. “You’re not even capable,” she said as her eyes dipped to my cock.

She smirked, her eyes full of malice, our marriage trampled at our feet.

I sighed, hardly angry anymore. It would take more than her words to shake my confidence as a man. She was only lashing out, in part because I’d lashed out first.

We’d both done this… both been a part of the destruction.

“Go,” I muttered, finally done with her.

Monique blinked and her smile faltered, perhaps coming to the same realisation that there was no point trying to hurt each other anymore… it was over; nothing more to fight for.

I stood still for a long while and watched as Monique and Alan got quietly in the car. He revved the engine, and as I was about to turn away, letting go of the hate and hurt she’d caused me over the years, he made the mistake of lowering his car window and giving me a look like I was scum.

“Take care of yourself, Devan,” Alan said, offering me a hundred dollar bill through the window. “You might need this for your attorney.”

A fucking. Hundred-dollar. Bill.

I stared at him incredulously as Monique quickly told him to stop, but he seemed oblivious.

And like a sleeping giant, the anger inside me awoke and took over. I couldn’t have stopped myself even if I had wanted to.

I ran forward, pulling the reclaimed wrench from the bathroom from my belt. I snarled as I went after Alan’s luxury car, attacking it with the sheer force of my body. I smashed, I kicked, and I shouted. The car bonnet bent under my weight while I hammered the blunt edge of the wrench down, pot marking the metal sheet beneath.

Hands grabbed me around my waist; someone was trying to pull me off the bonnet of the car but they weren’t strong enough. All I saw was red.

Snarling, I turned around to see the terrified face of my wife’s lover in front of my face.

Alan was short, out of shape and frightened. His money obviously couldn’t buy bravery.

And here I was, a trained killer, out of control.