Home>>read Wicked Ties free online

Wicked Ties(141)

By:Shayla Black


killed a man who would have ended your life without blinking.”

That’s it? That’s all he acknowledged? “Yes, he saved me, and I’m grateful. But did

you forget the little part where he lied to me and took me to bed to get back at you? He

sent you a film clip of—” She gnashed her teeth. “I still can’t believe that. He…” How the

hell could she put the betrayal into words? “He acted like I meant something. None of

that act was true.”

“I think it was.”

Morgan felt her jaw drop. “Why are you taking up for him?”

Brandon shot her a self-deprecating smile. “We used to be friends, until I fucked it

up. Jack wasn’t going to divorce Kayla without a good reason. Despite his…lifestyle, he

was too Catholic. I pushed Kayla. And pushed and pushed. God, I wanted that woman.

The one thing I never did was level with Jack and just tell him I was in love with his wife.

And that she was in love with me. I just took her, and I didn’t care how wretched he felt

because holding her made me feel better. I think he was just repaying the favor, little

sister, letting me see how it felt to be on the receiving end. If you should be pissed at

anyone, it’s me.”

“Do you have any idea what he did to me? At all?” “I hate to say this, but when I

barged into that hotel room, you didn’t look like you were suffering too much.”

Morgan flushed twenty shades of red, she was sure, from both fury and

embarrassment. “It wasn’t the way he touched me.”

Though, at times, that had been hard to take, to accept how much she loved it. “It was

the way he pretended to care.”

A sudden knock on the door sent them both turning.

Brandon cursed under his breath, then moved to open it. “God, I hope it’s not the

press,” she muttered. “Vultures.” Brandon cracked the door open, only as far as the

security chain allowed. “What?”

No response. The door blocked Morgan’s view, and she could only see Brandon raise

his hand to take something from the visitor’s grasp. Then he breathed what looked like a

sigh of relief. She looked down at the item in his hand. A videotape. The other videotape

Jack had promised to bring Brandon?

“Is this what I think it is?”

The person on the other side must have nodded. Who was it? Could it be… No.

“Thanks. Do you want to come in?”

Morgan’s heart started to pound. Oh, God. Maybe… Was it Jack? Would Jack come

here, after a week of total, devastating silence? Despite his betrayal, she ached for him.

Her heart was a hollow, gaping wound in her chest. She strained to hear the sound of his

voice late at night when she lay in bed, unable to sleep. And

her body nearly vibrated at just the thought of him. She throbbed.

Overly sensitive and tight in all the wrong places with the mere remembrance of

him…

God, what if he walked through that door now? Brandon drew the door back to admit

the stranger, but it wasn’t Jack who filled the doorway.

“Deke…” Disappointment stabbed her without mercy. “Hi, doll. Don’t look too

excited to see me.”

“I am. I’m sorry.” She did her best to paste on a smile. “How you doing?”

She tried to shrug, then grimaced. Damn, would that shoulder ever stop hurting?

Yeah, and probably long before her heart did.

“I’m recovering,” she said. “How are you?”

“Ready to get a miserable coonass off my back. Want to help me?”

“With Jack? I doubt there’s anything I can do. He’s made my role in his life perfectly

clear.”

“See, I don’t think he has. Since you left, he snarls and growls and gets drunk, then

sleeps it off and starts over the next day. He knows you’re pissed. I told him he’s too

chickenshit to see you. He told me—”

“I can imagine what he said.” Morgan grimaced. “It’s not pretty. He needs you.”

“He needs a beating,” she shot back.

“If you were dishing it out, he would take it, doll. At least then, you’d be talking to

him.”

Morgan didn’t know what to say. Part of her wanted to beat the hell out of Jack. He’d

made peace with Brandon at the hospital…then left her without a single word while

believing that she was unconscious. She’d been groggy and far too overwrought to

respond—but she’d been awake enough to hear Jack’s every word.

That kind of crap didn’t put him in the “nice guy” category.

Bastard.

“Forgive me if I don’t give a shit that he’s annoying you and giving himself a daily