Chapter Twenty-three
“Get the fuck inside,” I seethe, looking at the lying bunny through cold eyes as she comes to a stop, refusing to walk inside.
She shakes her head. “No.”
“Get. The. Fuck. Inside.”
I ignore the heartbreak and guilt written all over her features and in her glistening green eyes. She has no right to feel heartbroken. None what-so-fucking-ever. She lied to me even after I gave her the opportunity to come clean.
With her shoulders square, she finally walks over the threshold into my apartment. “What now?” she hisses. “Do you want me to get naked and kneel at your feet?”
I let out a mirthless laugh. “Keep your clothes on, lying bunny. No one wants to see that.” We both know it’s a lie, but the anger in my veins burns too bright for me to care. “Sit down,” I say, my voice vibrating with the pent-up emotions swirling inside me.
Lucia scrambles over to the couch, sitting down so she’s perching on the edge. “Sy—”
Holding up my hand, I cut her off. “My name is Sawyer. You should know, since you’ve screamed it enough times.”
Red spots form on her cheeks and neck. “Fine,” she bites. “Sawyer. What happened in Tom’s office… it’s… I mean, that’s not how I wanted you to find out.”
“No?” I quirk an eyebrow. Turning my back on her, I walk over to the minibar, pouring myself some bourbon. “That’s a little hard to believe since you conveniently didn’t tell me you were married to Fabian while I was fucking you.”
“That’s a technicality,” she shoots back, darting to her feet.
I look at her over the rim of the glass as I take a large sip. Relishing the burn of the alcohol, I close my eyes and savor it for a brief moment. Then I pour myself more before sitting down in the closest armchair. Silence stretches between us, twisting, growing until it feels like it’s consuming the entire room.
Where I’m using the quiet to make sense of everything, Lucia looks as though it’s making her sick. She keeps shifting, crossing one leg, patting her hair, moving the other leg, twisting her hair. She can’t sit still and if she doesn’t let go of her bottom lip, she’s sucked between her teeth, she’s going to bleed soon.
Straightening, she looks at me, trying to catch my gaze. I continue to look at the spot just above her right shoulder, so I’m aware of what she’s doing without looking directly at her. “Sawyer,” she breathes, nervously wringing her hands in front of her. “I know this looks bad, and I’m sorry. I should have told you about my marriage to Fabian. But it wasn’t real. We were never in love.”
I don’t acknowledge her words.
“He owned me,” she goes on. “I-I was his property, and he never let me forget that. He would dress me up like a doll and parade me around for parties. Then, as soon as we were alone, depending on his mood, I’d either be his pet or his whore.”
My mask almost slips as fury stirs inside me, but I catch myself and remain unmoving.
“P-please look at me,” she cries. “Don’t… please don’t do this. Don’t ignore me, Sawyer. Don’t reduce me to nothing like he did.”
Unable to ignore her heartfelt plea, I look into her green eyes. Without meaning to, I get lost in them. Noticing details I’ve been oblivious to until now. They’re like two pools of liquid jade, drawing me in with their intensity. Flecks of gold dance within the verdant expanse. Her look is so intense it feels as though she’s looking into the depths of my soul, searching for something.
“You’re not nothing,” I finally say, gravel evident in my tone.
Her shoulders sag with relief. “Thank you for saying that. I know I fucked up, but I want to make things right.”
I continue, like she didn’t speak. “You’re a liar, a manipulator, and selfish. But you’re not nothing.”
She flinches with each word I speak. “N-no… I mean yes. Fuck. You’re right. I did lie, and I did manipulate the situation between us. But it wasn’t…” She shakes her head and swallows thickly. “It’s not what you think.”
“How do you know what I think?”
“I don’t. But no matter what it is, it’s not the truth. It can’t be.”
Nodding, I swirl the amber liquid in my glass. “What do you want, Lucia?” I ask. It’s weird to use her name, but calling her bunny doesn’t feel right anymore. She’s not some scared prey.
She’s quiet for so long I give up on getting an answer and stand abruptly. “Wait,” she chokes out, reaching for me.
“I did,” I say, shaking my head. “I waited for you to tell me the truth about Fabian. I waited for you to explain yourself just now. No more.”
“But, Sy—”
“Sawyer!” I boom, hating that she flinches away from me.
As I walk over to the elevator with long strides, she follows me, rambling one excuse after the other all while begging me to stay. As I step into the elevator, she meets my gaze. Her voice trembling as she asks, “Is there anything I can do or say to make you stay?”
“You’ve already done enough,” I say, my voice as gutted as I feel. “You made me care. Made me love you.”
“I love you, too,” she cries.
“And look where that got either of us,” I scoff, just as the elevator doors close.
The look on Lucia’s face haunts me during the descent, and even as I drive to Mickey’s house on the other side of the city, it’s not the traffic I see. It’s Lucia’s grief stricken expression.
Fuck!
I rap sharply on Mickey’s door, my knuckles echoing the pounding rhythm of my heart. Mickey swings open the door, his eyes widening at the sight of me, recognizing the storm brewing behind my eyes.
“Hey, man,” Mickey says, his voice tinged with concern as he steps aside to let me in. “Come on in. What’s going on?”
I slump onto the couch, the weight of my emotions threatening to crush me. “It’s a mess, Mickey,” I mutter, frustration and anger seeping into my words. “Tom called me and Lucia into a meeting.”
“Why?”
There’s zero mirth in my forced laugh. “Oh, you know. The usual. He wanted to ask about our marriage, and then tell me Lucia was married when we got together.”
“The fuck?” Mickey asks, echoing my thoughts perfectly. “To who?”
“Fabian,” I sneer. “The new fucking sponsor.”
Mickey’s brow furrows in empathy, his understanding of my turmoil evident. “Damn, Sawyer. I can’t even imagine. That’s rough.”
“Yeah, you could say that again,” I bark. “She made me do the one thing I’ve always done my best to avoid. She turned me into a cheater, home wrecker. Whatever you wanna fucking call it.”
Instead of letting me stew in my anger, Mickey tilts his head to the side. “You know I have a million questions, right?”
“Like what?”
“Like how she could be with you so much without Fabian knowing if they were married?” When I look at him with confusion written all over my face, he sighs. “Get your fucking head out of your ass long enough to look at the facts.”
I run a hand through my hair, the feeling of betrayal burning like a wildfire in my chest. “The facts are pretty fucking clear,” I argue, not really in the mood to listen to reason. “She. Was. Married. That’s all there is to it.”
Rolling his eyes, Mickey throws his hands up in the air. “Really? Then why did you come here?”
“What?”
“If you wanted someone to just agree with you and bitch out Lucia like a group of teenagers, you would have driven to Soren’s house. So why are you really here, Sawyer?”
Sometimes I really fucking hate how perceptive Mickey is, and how well he knows me. I’m here because I want him to tell me I’m not turning into my mom, and to… I don’t fucking know. Make sense of it all. Because I have no doubt if I’m left with my own thoughts for too long, I’ll do something stupid. Like find Fabian and punch him.
“Fine,” I agree after a lengthy silence. “Tell me what facts I’m overlooking.”
Mickey looks up from his phone. Yeah, the second I stopped talking, he picked it up, happy to ignore me until I broke the silence. Mickey is one stubborn fucker. Seriously, if we didn’t have practice, training, and games, we could sit here for days without talking.
“For one,” he says, holding up one finger. “The thing I said about time. If her marriage to Fabian meant a damn thing, she couldn’t be spending all that time with you.”
I nod, acknowledging his words.
“Second…” He adds a second finger. “Where was her wedding band?”
“She could have taken that off,” I growl.
Mickey shakes his head. “For years? What would have been the point of keeping it off for all the time we’ve been with the Sabertooths, and probably longer?”
This gets my attention. “What do you mean?” I ask, leaning forward, resting my arms on my thighs.
“If Lucia was married, the rumors would have reached the locker room. We both know she’s been asked out many times by many different people. Why not just tell people she was married? It would have been the easiest way to let anyone down. Instead, she’s turned every single person down in other ways.”
That much is true. And Mickey is right. Lucia turning people down hasn’t exactly earned her any bonus points. Where most will agree she’s hot as fuck, most are also of the opinion she’s so frosty her cunt would freeze anything that came into contact with it. Okay, it’s not that bad. She isn’t disliked or hated. She’s just… no one would consider her cuddly or ask her to look after their pet.
“If you ask me,” Mickey says, staring straight at me. “You’re being an ass, and Fabian’s a fucking rat and shouldn’t be trusted.”
“Yeah,” I reluctantly agree, my head swimming.
“What would you do if you found out your wife—Lucia—was cheating on you?” Mickey asks, waving me off when I let out a low growl. “Down, boy. This isn’t about your mommy issues. But think it through. You wouldn’t go to Tom.”
“Fuck no,” I spit. “I’d find the fucker and punch his head in.”
Even though it’s not what’s going on, anger swirls inside me at the thought of anyone else touching my wife. My. Wife. I might be too pissed to see reason right now, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t mine.
“Exactly,” Mickey grunts. “But Fabian is a little bitch who went to Tom. Ask yourself why.”
“Because he wanted him to know. If he came straight to me I could bury it.”
Mickey annoyingly claps and lets out a sharp whistle. “Look at that, Sawyer. Maybe you’re not too stupid to be a good husband after all.”
Scoffing, I roll my eyes. “I’m not… I don’t know.” I run my hands through my shoulder-length hair, squeezing my eyes shut. “This is all so fucked up.”
Mickey hums quietly to himself. “And I bet you just made it a million times worse.”
“Probably,” I admit. Lucia’s stricken face jumps to the forefront of my mind. “Definitely.”
“What your mom did was fucked,” Mickey says, not bothering to sugarcoat the words. “But leaving your wife instead of talking to her, instead of listening, isn’t much better.”
“The fuck?” I roar. “I’m nothing like her.”
“Aren’t you, though?”
My nostrils flare as I clench and unclench my fists. “You’re too fucking old to still believe she is the one who cocked everything up by herself—”
“Don’t fucking use the word ‘cock’ in the same sentence as my mom.”
Mickey guffaws. “Whatever. The point is that Dad Perry was no fucking prize. He left you. And he’d only contacted you after you made it big. And what does he say every time he calls?”
“That he needs money,” I grumble.
Okay, I get it. I’m a dick, and instead of dealing with my issues, I’ve put it all on my mom. My mom, who also happens to be the only parent in my life, never asking for anything but my company.
“I get it,” I finally agree. “But I’m not ready to forgive her.”
“Which one?” Mickey asks, grinning. “Lucia or your mom?”
“Both.”
He shrugs. “Hate to tell you… actually, scratch that. I love that I’m the one who gets to tell you this. Forgiving your mom is long fucking overdue. As for Lucia, I think you’re the one who needs to be forgiven.”
I arch an eyebrow, shooting him an unimpressed stare. “Really?”
“Yep. Really. You fucked up with both of them. Don’t be such a pussy.”
A wave of gratitude washes over me. This is why I came to him. Mickey is brutal in his honesty. “Thanks, Mickey,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “I mean it. Thanks for being here.”
He shrugs again. “Technically, you’re the one who’s here since we’re at my house.”
I chuckle. “Dick.”
We end up ordering pizza, the scent of melted cheese and tomato sauce enveloping us as we devour slice after slice. The distraction is welcome, providing a temporary reprieve from the turmoil brewing inside me.
Afterward, we watch a movie. Some stupid action shit that Mickey’s into. As the credits roll on the movie we’d chosen, I find myself unable to face the prospect of returning to mine and Lucia’s apartment. My thoughts are a chaotic whirlwind, and the idea of confronting them alone feels daunting, but it’s still better than going home. I need some time alone to process everything I learned today.
Mickey seems to sense my unease, his gaze meeting mine with a silent understanding. “You’re crashing here tonight, aren’t you?” he asks, his tone gentle.
I nod in response, grateful for his intuitive grasp on the situation. “Yeah,” I admit quietly. “I just... I need some time before I can go back there.”
Mickey offers a supportive pat on the shoulder. “No worries, man,” he says reassuringly. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to.”
I manage a small, appreciative smile. “Thanks, Mick,” I reply sincerely. “I really appreciate it.”