Chapter 13 #2
“I get it—you’re paying me back for what you think I did to you, which was nothing, by the way. Great, we’re even. Now it’s time for you to get your ass home and honor your marriage vows.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Yes, it is.”
“I know it’s hard for you to imagine that someone might say no to you, but I’m not coming home—not now or ever. My home is on Gansett, and that’s where I plan to stay.”
“Even after you have my baby? Were you planning to tell me about that?”
Laura’s mouth fell open. “How do you . . . When did you . . .”
“There’s nothing a good private investigator can’t find out for the right price.”
Appalled and horrified to know he’d had her followed, she had to dig deep to recover her composure. “I was going to tell you. That’s why I’m here.”
He waved a hand dismissively. “Here’s how this is going to go. You’re giving up the island, the hotel, the guitar player, the whole thing and coming back where you belong, or I’ll make sure you never see that baby. Your rebellion is over. You’ve made your point.”
Anger whipped through Laura like a wild fire. “Who the hell do you think you are? You can’t tell me what to do or where to live.”
He leaned in closer to her, his dark eyes flashing with fury and what might’ve been hurt, not that she cared about that. Not anymore. “I’m your husband, and that’s my kid you’re carrying. At least I think it is.”
Once again, Laura acted without thinking as her hand connected with his face in a loud slap that had everyone in the place looking at them.
His face flushed with rage.
Before he could say a word, she stood and propped her hands on the table, leaning in so he could hear her.
“Listen to me, and listen good, you miserable son of a bitch. The biggest mistake I ever made was marrying you. You’ll sign the divorce papers—immediately—or not only will I make sure you never see this kid you’re not sure is yours, I’ll also see to it that my dad does everything within his considerable power to ruin your precious career. Do I make myself clear?”
As she’d known it would, the threat of Frank McCarthy’s wrath had the color draining from Justin’s face.
“I said, do I make myself clear?”
He took another sip of his drink and eyed her hatefully. “I’m not surprised you’re already shacked up with someone else. You have no idea how to be without a man. Poor little daddy’s girl can’t be alone for five minutes.”
Even though his words struck a direct hit to one of her deepest insecurities, she refused to show him that. “Sign the papers, Justin, or we’ll make your life a living hell. I may be a daddy’s girl, but there’s absolutely nothing he wouldn’t do for me. You’d do well to remember that.”
Laura didn’t wait to hear whatever he might have to say to that.
For the first time in her life, she didn’t care that she was making a scene that would be talked about for days to come.
All she cared about was getting out of there—as quickly as possible.
She was aware of Owen getting up from the table he’d occupied and chasing after her, but she didn’t stop moving until she reached the car.
With nowhere left to go, she leaned against the car, breathing heavily as her hands began to shake.
He’d had her followed. He knew about Owen. About the baby. For a brief, horrifying moment, she wondered if she was going to be sick again, right there in the parking lot.
Owen caught up to her and reached for her.
She stopped him by putting her hands up. Every nerve in her body was on fire. If he touched her, if anyone touched her, she’d scream.
“Jesus Christ,” Owen said, his face flushed from running after her. “What the hell did he say?”
Laura reached for the door handle, fumbling with it, frustrated when the door refused to open.
“Wait, honey. Let me unlock it.” He held the door for her until she was inside before closing it and going around to the driver’s side. “Are you going to talk to me?”
“Later. Please. Let’s go.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“Anywhere but here.” She caught a glimpse of Justin emerging from the restaurant in time to watch them drive away. His expression was impassive, but his eyes were sharp as always.
“I want to know what he said to you.”
“It doesn’t matter. He’ll sign the papers.”
“Laura, honey—”
“I can’t talk about it. I just can’t.” Her mind raced.
In addition to having her followed, he’d implied the baby wasn’t his.
If it hadn’t been so insulting she might’ve laughed.
Except nothing about this was funny. She’d married an egotistical, sadistic asshole.
How had she not seen that? Had she been so desperate to be married that she’d failed to notice he was a heartless bastard?
The wedding had been only six months ago, but it might as well have been years, for she simply couldn’t remember for the life of her why she’d ever thought she loved him.
The queasiness returned with a sudden fury. She rolled down the window to let in the cool air, which helped to combat the nausea.
To his credit, Owen didn’t say a word as he drove them to the Weston.
Because it was one of the taller buildings in the city, she didn’t have to tell him how to get there.
As he grabbed their overnight bags from the trunk and checked them into the hotel, Laura tagged along like a docile child.
Justin’s ugly words about how she couldn’t get by without a man in her life rang through her mind like a refrain from a song that got stuck on replay. Over and over and over again.
They rode the elevator to the sixth floor in silence that followed them into the room.
When she thought about the plans they’d made for this night, she again felt sick.
She went over to the window and stared out at the city she’d called home for most of her life, seeing nothing but the look on Justin’s face when he’d implied that the baby wasn’t his.
If she were being honest with herself, she’d known about Justin’s mean streak before she married him.
She’d known he was capable of doing whatever it took to win on behalf of his clients and had cringed on more than one occasion when he’d laid out his trial strategy to her.
You can’t argue with results, he’d said proudly when she questioned his tactics.
But until he’d aimed it at her, she’d truly had no idea how deep the mean streak ran or how low he would stoop to advance his agenda.
Owen came up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “What can I do?”
“I . . . I need some time to myself.” Her voice wavered, betraying the emotion she was trying so hard to contain. The last thing she wanted was to suck him into the vicious storm of her divorce.
His hands fell away from her shoulders, his disappointment palpable. “Sure. Whatever you need.”
As she heard him moving around the room, she hated herself for dragging him on the emotional rollercoaster ride with her. He deserved so much better.
“I’ll be back in a while,” he said. The hotel door clicked shut behind him as he left the room.
Laura’s legs gave out under her, and she slid down to the floor, still leaning against the big window with the panoramic view of the city. The baby chose that moment to deliver a resounding kick that broke open the floodgates. Tears spilled down her cheeks, and sobs shook her body.
Rattled by Laura’s withdrawal, Owen took the elevator to the lobby.
He wanted to go find Justin Newsome and beat the shit out of him.
But because that wasn’t an option, Owen withdrew the business card Frank McCarthy had slipped him before they left his house earlier and called the cell number Frank had scrawled on the back.
“What happened?” Frank asked when he answered.
“I have no idea. All I know is he said something that made her slap his face.”
“Is that right? Well, good for her. She should’ve done that a long time ago, if you ask me. So what did he say?”
“That’s the thing. She won’t tell me. It’s like she’s folded into herself and shut me out. She’s right there, but she’s a million miles away. It’s kind of scary, actually.”