Lines Drawn (Drawn to You #2) - Ker Dukey Page 0,14

ravage my thoughts. I can’t deal with this. Every fiber of my being fights with the possessive, jealous man inside to not go in the bathroom and demand answers.

I end the call and make it out of there before she comes back. There’s no way she would have turned to him after everything we’ve been through. I refuse to believe it, and for the sake of moving forward, I need to get out of here and not let her know I checked her cell.

I FEEL LIKE I’M intruding on something that could only be described as a deluxe version of the Jerry Springer show.

Who would have thought those stiffs would be kinky, dirty bastards? I want to clap my hands and thank them for the entertainment, but when I see the pain and confusion in both Antonia’s and Gaby’s eyes, all the humor leaves my body in a rush. Guilt replaces it, for not taking the severity of the situation seriously. Annoyance settles in the pit of my stomach, and I’m torn between which one I should offer comfort to, if they’d even want it from me.

They have shitty timing with Antonia only being out of the hospital for one day. If anything, this will set her back.

It’s fucking surreal.

Antonia and Finlay share a sister. Gaby has been her best friend her whole life, and for that, they’re lucky, but they were still kept in the dark. Gaby leaves the room like a tornado blasting through it. I jump to my feet to follow her outside and grab her arm before she can disappear into her apartment.

“Let go of me,” she almost growls.

“I just want to talk,” I tell her, releasing her arm and lifting my hands in surrender.

She turns to me and shakes her head. There’s this thing she does with her face that shows some of the ugly inside her. Her mouth sets in a firm line, and her eyes squint in disgust at what they’re looking at. For such a cute girl, she can cause the murky traits of her personality to penetrate that pretty. I know it’s a way of protecting herself, but why does she have to hurt someone else to heal herself? I don’t think I could do that to another person.

“Nothing has changed between us, Gavin. So we’re not related, that’s great. I don’t have to feel more grossed out than I already do about sleeping with you.”

She gives me a look of loathing, and it’s as if she’s spitting venom and it’s liquefying my flesh and exposing my heart and my vulnerabilities for her to flay. Why does she resort to being so fucking spiteful?

I know she’s hurting and going through something huge right now, and I should just give her the space she needs, but I’d be lying to myself if I pretended it doesn’t fucking cut deep. They all mock me for being a man whore and not having girlfriends, but this is an excellent example of why I don’t open my heart to women. They are more dangerous than we are when it comes to the heart. Mine feels like it’s been put through a grinder and stuck together like a patty. Fuck my life.

I’VE BEEN DRINKING WAY too much lately, and it’s taking more and more liquor to create the buzz I need to escape from my thoughts. The door opens, and Brad walks in. He looks stressed. There are bags under his eyes, and his tie is loose where he’s apparently been pulling on it.

“Hey, man. Sorry to bring this to you with everything that’s been going on. “

He drones on with his apology, dropping his briefcase on the table and fiddling with the lock before opening it and gathering a stack of paperwork.

No more small talk beforehand. No building up to it. He wants his agreed shares, and I suppose he’s earned them.

“Pen?” I ask, knowing he will have at least five in his breast pocket.

“Sure.” He nods, pulling one from said pocket. “How are you doing?”

I raise a brow at him before taking the pen and signing where he points.

“I’m just fucking perfect.”

“How is Antonia?

Dropping the pen on top of the stack of papers, I shrug my shoulders.

“She’s dealing.”

“I’m sorry, man. If there’s anything I can do,” he tells me, gathering the paperwork together and stuffing it back in his briefcase. He offers me his hand like we’re businessmen and not best friends, and his whole demeanour is shaky.

He’s sweating and can’t look me in