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“You hate boats.” Ash pointed out. “Didn’t you just learn to swim?”
“Son of a bitch, if one more Abandonato talks about my lack of swimming skills or boating skills, I’m going to build a shank out of a shark bone.”
Ash burst out laughing. “Aw, bro, you gonna make shark bone necklaces for us?”
“That’s thoughtful, both a weapon and a sign of friendship.” King pressed a hand to his chest. “I’m super touched, man.”
“Go to hell.” I groaned. “Okay…” I tossed the ice pack onto the couch. “…just make it look like you roughed me up enough to kill me, oh wait, you already want to do that. Also, the yacht makes sense, and I bought a car for Bella.”
“To run her over with?” Ash asked, cocky shit. “Because I think we draw the line with two murders in the Family.”
I didn’t even blink. “Eat shit, you dirty kettle.”
“Isn’t it the pot?” King asked. “I could have sworn it was the pot calling the kettle black.”
“They’re both dirty.” I pointed out. “And you don’t know what I know and that’s kind of the point, so just do what you will, within reason, so I can go back to Bella-brunch.”
Both King and Ash whipped their heads in my direction.
A small, hateful smirk appeared on Ash’s face. “That’s not a word.”
“It’s German.” I lied.
“No way.” King shook his head. “You hate brunch, you hate eggs, you’ll drink the mimosas, but you want to go back to Bella.”
“I hate Bella.” I lied. “You guys know as much as anyone that I would run her over with the very car I purchased for her, so stop giving me so much shit and—”
A throat cleared.
It was loud.
It was feminine.
My heart nearly stopped beating in my chest as Bella walked slowly into the living room of the mother-in-law suite. Her face had lost all color, all joy, everything that made her want to fight me or engage.
I saw it, in real time, the second I stole the very last shred of dignity she had in her body, of pride, of fucking hope, and I watched it hit the ground with a resounding crash that I would remember the rest of my life.
Ash and King immediately started punching me.
They were going to anyway.
I pretended to fight back.
But I lived for the hurt, better I suffer physically the way I just broke her emotionally.
Blood ran down my chin the way tears ran down her cheeks.
My blood was spilled so others wouldn’t be.
Her tears were spilled, mourning what would never be.
After a few sucker punches to the stomach, a knee to the forehead, and another punch to my left cheekbone that had my jaw cracking, I fell to the ground.
Ash sighed. “Bella, we’re kind of busy, did you need something?”
She didn’t answer, she just walked out of the living room.
And kept walking.
