The Lover Beneath Me(70)

“Sit your asses down already. I need a fucking drink,” Rafe bit out. I begrudgingly sat down, my one eye still on Darren.

“What are you going to do now, Daimon? Are you going to pretend it didn’t happen? I can’t believe you fucking went to that extent to have her,” Darren shook his head at me as he reached for his whiskey.

“Like I told you before, I know it was wrong, but I would do it again if it meant I would be with her,” I answered bitterly. Darren was pissed at me when I first told him about why Addie left and that she had found out about my lies. I even let the fucker hit me, twice!

“A contract, Daimon? How many did you do with her?” Rafe asked surprised at me.

“Why don’t the two of you fuck off?” I snarled. This day dragged on, the one friend judged me, while the other vied for my wife.

“Daimon, just drink.” Rafe handed me a whiskey. I looked at the lowball glass, then at him. I took the glass and drank it in one swig. It wasn’t a Glenmoire. I smiled anxiously, already feeling empty with the thoughts of being without my Addie.

“I need to leave,” I said as I stood up.

“We need to figure out what the fuck to do next,” Rafe said firmly.

“There isn’t any. Either way I lose her. There’s no fucking way Addie will stay with me, not now, not after everything,” I muttered angrily.

“Daimon, fuck, you can lose a lot more than just Addie,” Rafe barked.

“Do you honestly think I give a shit? Addie is worth everything to me and I’m about to lose her because of all the stupid shit I’ve done,” I snapped.

I left Darren’s and drove home like a mad man. I tried to call her, but she didn’t answer. I even tried Jimmy and Ted, but the fuckers didn’t answer either. I needed to see her face, to touch her body, to feel it melt under my fingertips. I pushed through the swarm of reporter who staked out in front of my building. “Good evening, Mr. Evans,” Lenny said as I walked in.

“Call the police and have them removed,” I ordered.

“Yes, Mr. Evans.” Lenny waited as I passed through.

“Do it now!” I barked as I waited for the elevator.

I stepped into the penthouse and waited. Drako came to me and nudged his head on my leg. “Where’s our Addie?” I asked him. My dog didn’t move from his spot. He just whimpered and looked up at me. I stopped cold. I looked up the stairs anxiously. I ran around the house calling out her name, but as I entered each room, my anxiety grew. I stood there; the blood inside me had drained away, leaving me hollow. She left. Addie left.

I stumbled my way to the couch. I sat there, my mind still from all thoughts. There was nothing I could do to salvage what I had done. Nothing. I was my father’s son. I drove the woman I love beyond my grasp and pushed her away, just like that son of a bitch father of mine, who had no clue how to love—destroying my mother. I wanted—no, I fucking needed to somehow tie Addie to me so she could never leave my side. I was a fucking pussy; shit scared I would lose the only thing I felt like belonged to me. The one person who gave me any love after my mother left. I sat there knowing that I went after Addie, wanting to save her, but what I wanted was her salvation. I needed as much saving as she did.

My phone kept ringing, but I tried ignoring it. I knew it wasn’t Addie’s ring, but the fucking thing just kept ringing. “What?” I shouted through the phone.

“Yeah, hello to you too, asshole. I’m calling to ask if you’re watching it?” Sofia had called me; she never called me before.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I said bitterly on the phone.

“Listen here, asshole, whatever you and my sister have done, I know you did it because you cared. I might not like you, but I respect you. She didn’t want you to know what she was planning, afraid you might stop her. So I wanted to tell you Addie called me and told me she was going to do an interview. That I shouldn’t listen to the media, and that I should just listen to her side of the story,” Sofia replied.

“I don’t fucking understand?” I began to shake as a fear I never felt before started to take over my body, filling me with doubt and loneliness. What kind of interview was Addie going to do?

“Why would you? You’re a man. Turn on the TV and look for Addie’s interview,” she said condescendingly. I hung up not caring about our goodbyes. I turned on the TV and desperately searched, until finally I found Addie speaking to a journalist.

“So, Mrs. Evans what can you tell us about this contact? I mean I read through it and, well, it reads like a man who wants to own you and basically you agreed to sell yourself for money?” The fucking prick reporter was even smirking as he asked his question. I held my breath as I watched her through the TV screen. Addie sat tall, held her head high and she smirked.