Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 56628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“You got money?” I asked in all seriousness. If she didn’t, I’d see what I could do to get her some cash. I was sure Joey would understand and help me.
She nodded. “I took all of Rodney’s cash. He kept a few million in his safe. The FBI didn’t find it.”
I studied her for a moment. “Where do you plan on going, Zyla?”
She shrugged, pouring a drink for one of the girls. “I don’t know right now. I’m still working that out.” She blew out a harsh breath. “Somewhere far though. I don’t want him to ever find me again.” She shrugged. “Might have to learn to live off the grid, to be honest.” I frowned. I hated this for her.
“Zyla, why don’t you just explain everything to Jesup?” I knew he would protect her if he knew what had happened, knew why she did what she did. Hell, he’d fucking helped Tristan essentially do the same thing to me, so it’d be hypocritical of him not to.
She instantly shook her head. “No,” she snapped. “It’s out of the fucking question.”
I clenched my jaw at her stupidity. “Jesup is still in love with you, Zyla. I can tell you right now that man has never stopped loving you. He can take care of himself. And he can take care of you, too, if you would just give him the fucking chance. This could be your opportunity to not have to spend the rest of your life running from Rodney.”
She shook her head. “I killed his kid,” she told me quietly. My eyes widened in shock. “I couldn’t let Rodney know I was pregnant, and I’d never gotten the chance to tell Jesup. So, I had an abortion.” She shook her head, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip. “I can’t ever go back to him, Adelaide, not with that weighing down on my shoulders.” She blinked back tears. “How could Jesup ever forgive me for something like that?”
“Give me something that’s going to fuck me up,” Jesup snapped as he stepped up to the bar. “And I want Adelaide to make it,” he snarled when Zyla got ready to pour him a drink. She flinched, dropping her hands back to her sides. I scowled at Jesup. “I don’t fucking trust you to make me a damn drink, you traitorous fucking bitch.”
Zyla swallowed hard and stepped back from the bar, pushing through the door that led to the kitchen. I glared at Jesup. “I think you owe her a fucking apology.”
Jesup barked out a laugh, the sound cruel. “Me owe her a fucking apology? Girly, you’re out of your fucking mind. I don’t owe her a goddamn thing. She left. She betrayed our marriage and demanded the fucking divorce. I didn’t do shit. She doesn’t deserve a goddamn apology. She deserves every bit of shit that I’m throwing her way.”
I wanted to snap his neck. I could take one look at Zyla and know that she was running from something. Tristan could too, otherwise he wouldn’t have allowed her to stay here. So, Jesup was either blind as fuck, or he was choosing to ignore her silent pleas for help and protection just to be a selfish dick.
“Then you’re out of your goddamn mind if you think I’m making you a fucking drink,” I snapped, grabbing Zyla’s drink that she’d repoured and throwing it in his face.
“What the fuck?!” he roared, jumping up from the barstool, sending it clattering loudly to the floor. The room went deadly silent, all eyes turning to us.
“There’s your fucking drink,” I snapped at him.
“What the fuck is going on here?!” Tristan shouted as he walked up.
I glared at Jesup. “Get your fuckard of a VP out of my goddamn face,” I snarled before I turned and pushed through the kitchen door where Zyla had disappeared to. I found her sitting in the corner near the fridge, her knees pulled up to her chest, sobbing into her hands.
“He hates me,” she cried when she looked up at me.
“Come on,” I gently urged, helping her up off the floor. “I think you need a good, stiff drink and to forget about what a cunt Jesup is.”
I led her back out behind the bar, and I poured her a glass of Jack and Coke. “Liquor doesn’t fix anything, but it sure as hell makes you feel better for a little while,” I told her as I handed her the glass. How many times had I lost myself in a bottle to forget about all of the bad shit in my life for a while?
Her phone went off in her pocket, and she pulled it out, her face paling to a sickly white color. She jerked her eyes up to mine, fear like no other covering her features. “He’s out,” she whispered in horror, holding her phone up for me to see Rodney’s name on her screen.