19. TATE #3
It’s a carefully worded message that says two things.
He knows I’m married. He knows the marriage is supposed to be a secret.
But is this a real threat? Or is he taunting me as per usual?
Fuck, is he going to use this to interfere with Luke’s inheritance?
Or is this to force my hand to retrieve the inheritance?
This is already outside of his MO.
Arrogance will get you killed, Uncle Jasper’s voice echoes in my head.
I can admit it; I’ve been arrogant when it comes to Clarence.
But it was so much fucking fun. It was fine when it was just me, but I have a husband to protect now.
I have to get Luke his inheritance fucking yesterday, so I can kill Clarence.
Shame. Killing isn’t my favorite. Not because I don’t enjoy it, but because the game ends. I’d rather play. But, like every game, the time to declare a winner comes. Only my games don’t end with a winner; they end with death.
Just what I love—chaotic scrambling. Everything was on track again, but motherfucking Clarence fucked that up.
Now, I’m going to have to reveal my marriage to Luke.
I don’t know what Clarence plans to do with that information but getting Luke his inheritance did a massive leapfrog to the top of my priorities list. Second only to keeping Ryan safe.
That will forever be my first priority, now.
Okay, don’t charge in like a bull, Tate. Breathe.
I take a second down the hall from Luke’s office. If anyone saw me right now, they’d think I was having a panic attack. I’m not. I’m so fucking not. But I do check the stream of text messages from my angry husband one more time. I need the rage they give me.
Since his slutty jersey pictures—there were so many more after the first one—he’s tried to get my attention with all kinds of shit that ratchets the ever-present boiling rage. Maybe it’s time I give him that attention.
No. No, you fucking can’t.
But I could fuck him back into submission. Own him. Mark him. Claim him all over again. Show him he should fear me. Yes. Best idea I’ve had yet. That will fix everything.
As if he can hear me thinking about him, I get a text.
Dollface
Did I ever tell you about the time I had a threesome? Husband and wife combo. God, she had nice tits. His cock was ass-wrecking big.
Me
I hope those skull emojis signal my level of murder, so he’ll fucking stop it. Know what? We need at least seven more skull emojis. I type them in and send!
Remember what I said about extra shitty? Here it is. Because it’s a maze we got lost in together, but there’s no way out. As much as I want to fucking let what he did go—because believe me, I’d sure love some of Ethan’s indifference right now—I physically cannot.
Just thinking about it …
My body shakes.
My brain screams.
The urge to do violent things overwhelms me.
I can’t function like that. But I also can’t live without him.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I take a breath and do my best to be Coach Tate, but my hands shake.
I slide them into my pockets and approach my brother’s office door, leaning against it.
He’s packing, a longing gaze focused on his desk.
My brother doesn’t have a thing for furniture.
He’s fucked McKinnon over that desk, hasn’t he?
“I heard what happened,” I say.
He startles.
“It’s fine, Tate. I only did this for you. I’m leaving a little early, that’s all.”
“You did this for me, and I promised I’d do this for you.” I pull my hand out of my pocket, twisting the ring. Ryan can’t even wear his. It drives me fucking crazy.
“You went through with it? Fuck, sorry. I was supposed to help you with that.”
I shake my head. “I shouldn’t have asked you for help with this one; it was mine to figure out.”
“You got his father’s permission?”
“Sort of,” I say, even though it’ll be a cold day in hell before Henry ever lets his son marry me. “Still working on that part. Now that we’ll have the money, it will be a lot easier.”
I want to get away from this topic. Ryan’s still in danger while he’s at college because of Henry. Clarence is an unpinned grenade ready to go off in my life. Thinking about them won’t help this conversation.
“It’s not love,” I say, twisting the ring on my finger. Maybe … maybe for the first time I wish it could be. “But I’d put him in the fucking ground myself before I let anyone else touch him.”
Luke flinches.
Right, I don’t usually talk like that in front of Luke.
It’s not as if I mean it literally; I’d never hurt Ryan, but the sentiment fucking stands—our fates are tied. He belongs to me, and no one gets to touch him.
I scrub a hand over my face. I can’t spiral in front of Luke.
“I’ve tried to stay away. I really fucking tried.
But he’s under my skin like poison, and I can’t cut him out without bleeding to death.
It’s … like trying to quit breathing, Luke.
Is it like that for you and Ace? Hmm? Every time I go without him, I get a little more unhinged. And then I see him, and it’s …”
I’ve already said way too much, but I can’t seem to stop myself.
“Ryan is the house I’ve built with my bare hands that’s caught fire. I don’t go in because it’s smart; I go in because he’s mine.”