wasn’t looking?”
“You know what I mean!” He stood, balling his hands.
She inched her head side to side. “No, I don’t know what you mean. I know that I used to sleep in the same bed as Chris, and he’d hold me at night, but I wasn’t his girlfriend or wife. I know we don’t go to movies. I know you’re not here very much. I know I eat most meals alone. I know I play with Lola and Foxy. So … maybe there’s a title for all of that, but it sure as fuck is not a girlfriend.”
The ache in his chest multiplied with each word she spoke. It hurt less when she cut his ear and put a knife in his leg.
“Yes or no? Did you fuck someone tonight?” His words came out jagged and harsh. Desperate … so damn desperate.
“Yes.”
Ian rested his hands on his hips and dropped his chin. His heart felt out of control, ready to explode into a million pieces as he chased each breath, burning with anger. “Max will arrange for you to go back to Newark tomorrow.” He pivoted and headed up the stairs.
A few minutes later, Jersey appeared at the door to the bedroom. He finished tucking her belongings into her bag and shoved it into her chest. The impact made her stumble back a few steps. Without giving her a direct glance, he closed and locked the bedroom door.
Early the next morning, Ian slipped on shorts and a tee to take the dogs for a walk. At the bottom of the stairs, he heard noises in the kitchen. He took slow steps in that direction and peeked around the corner.
Jersey shoved as much food and bottles of Ian’s water as she could into her bag. When Lola barked by his ankle, Jersey froze, glancing up at him.
“Max will be here at nine,” he said past the ache in his throat.
“No need.” She tried to zip her bag, but it was too full.
He never got around to getting her a new bag.
Jersey hooked the strap over her shoulder. “I’m leaving now.” She brushed past him and opened the front door.
“Where are you going?” A toxic mix of pain, anger, and concern gripped his words, making them break apart as he said them.
She paused at the door with her back to him, staring out at the driveway. And then as if none of the thoughts in her mind deserved to be heard, she stepped outside and closed the door behind her.
For a solid five seconds, he fought the urge to chase after her. The sixth second … of course six … he opened the door just as she reached the end of the drive. “You have nowhere to go. Why are you doing this?”
Jersey kept walking.
He jogged after her, planting himself in front of her to stop her movements. She stared at his chest, jaw set, eyes unblinking.
“I love you, but you fucked another man last night.”
“Sounds like a good topic for you to discuss with your shrink.” She tried to step around him.
He stopped her again, and she pushed out a sharp exhale.
“I’m sorry I walked out on you last night.”
“I’m not sorry I fucked another man.” She knew how to cut him without even using a knife. With a little more force, she got around him and kept walking.
“So … you’re just going to be homeless on the streets of L.A. now?”
Jersey was a good fighter. The fact that she didn’t jump around with her hands up at her face was her biggest strength. Opponents underestimated her, and she leveled them when they least expected it.
Ian could jump around, taunting her all day long, taking a few swings, trying to provoke her, but in the end, she would be the first to land a solid punch, and it would hurt like hell. So if he wanted to compete at her level, he had to stop jumping around. He had one chance to land a hard hit that would knock her down.
Jogging again to catch up to her, he grabbed her from behind with a firm hold, fully prepared for her to wriggle and thrash to get free.
Then his lips brushed her ear, and he punched hard. “I set Kessler on fire.”
Knockout.
It was as if every muscle in her body stopped working, like his arms were the only thing keeping her upright. Jersey didn’t move any part of her body. She didn’t breathe.
He should have told her weeks ago. He should have