Chapter 19
Aurora
Reece rises from the tub, water cascading down his muscular frame, and snatches a towel to cover himself. His incisions and scars stand out against his tattooed skin, a reminder of everything he’s endured. I wish he’d open up to me, let me help him.
I get to my feet, slower and more awkward with the weight of my pregnant belly. He hands me a fluffy towel and helps me out of the tub.
“You didn’t answer me.” I wrap the thick cotton around me.
“There’s nothing more to talk about.” He roughly dries his hair. “You’re cold. Get dressed.”
“Don’t do that.” I tuck the towel tighter to my chest. “Don’t shut down when things become uncomfortable.”
“I’m not shutting down.” Yet his voice comes out clipped, defensive.
“Bullshit. What’s happening, Reece? This isn’t us.”
“It’s not?” Towel around his waist, he finally faces me. “You lied to me. I’m always the last to find out anything—an afterthought. Though I had my suspicions, with the lack of a marriage certificate and all.”
“You’re not an afterthought.”
He scoffs. “You’re right. There were definitely times when I was front and center in your not-husband’s mind.
Like when he ditched his phone at the arena, took off on Grant’s bike, and while I chased him through LA, he snuck you on a plane and put that ring on your finger.
Or when his father conveniently died after I told you I wanted you, and I got sent back to LA, which just so happens to be when he convinced you to sign a contract stating you wouldn’t marry anyone else. Do I have that correct?”
“Maybe.” I can’t argue with him. It sounds like something Jackson would do. “I know nothing about that.”
Reece presses his lips together and gives a slow nod. “Both of you led me to believe you were married—taken—when all he really did was give you access to his bank account.”
“That’s not true. It’s a marriage contract. What difference does it make?”
He leans on the counter, drops his head into his hands, and drags his palms down his face. “One has vows,” he says calmly. “The other ain’t fucking shit, Aurora!” he yells, his fist coming down hard on the marble.
I flinch. “You’re that mad about this?”
Eyes narrowed and jaw tight, he pushes off the counter and stalks toward me. “Do you have any idea the mental gymnastics it took to fall in love with someone who was married? To touch someone married—when all he did was give you his credit card and a cheap fucking ring?”
I raise my hand to stop him from coming any closer. He doesn’t scare me, but I’ve also never seen him this angry. “You’re being rude.”
He steps into my space, and I press my palm flat to his chest.
“I’m drowning here.” His fingers circle my wrist, and before I can react, he’s tugging at my engagement ring.
I try to jerk away, but his grip is too strong. “Stop it! What are you doing?”
The ring comes free, clenched in his fist, and he releases me. “I need to take my sister to South Carolina to deal with her husband. I need to figure out why the hell Bennett is threatening my partner.” He turns and walks back toward the vanity. “And I need to be here to take care of you.”
Tears burn behind my eyelids. I never want him to leave, but I refuse to be anyone’s burden.
I won’t be the reason he has more stress.
He didn’t say it, but he wasn’t there to rescue Lucas because he was with me.
Who knows—maybe things would’ve been different for Harper if he hadn’t been my bodyguard.
“You can go,” I say, steadier than I feel. “I’ll manage. Ethan and Jax are here. The twins live downstairs. Do what you—”
He moves past the sink to the toilet and drops my ring into the water.
I lunge forward. “Reece!”
He flushes it—he flushes my engagement ring down the drain.
“I’m going to see Lucas,” he announces flatly. “Don’t worry, it’s not expensive—it’s hollow, a tracker meant to prevent me from taking you—I’m sure Jax will buy you another one.”
His footsteps retreat, but my gaze remains fixed on the churning water, desperately searching for any flash of diamond or platinum.