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“And your mom?” She’s nothing like you.
“I talk to her a few times a year, but we aren’t close.” I wonder how different my life would be if I had a mom like Leann Gibson. If I’d grown up in a loving home.
“I see.” Her mouth twists slightly, and she nods her head. “Well, honey, I hate to say it, but that’s a shitty childhood.” I choke out a laugh at her uncensored words. “But don’t worry, I don’t pity you.” The promise is written in her eyes. “But only because I know that you’re right where you’re meant to be.” The backs of my eyes threaten to burn again just as the front door opens.
The front door creaks open and a moment later Colt walks into the kitchen, gracing us with his warm smile. “What are you two talking about?” He tips my face up and brushes his lips against mine.
“Just how I’ve been waiting for Libby here to come along,” Leann answers for the both of us.
“You aren’t the only one.” Colt’s smile sobers as his eyes burn into mine. He’s serious. The room closes in and suddenly we are all alone. Colt brushes the backs of his fingers down my arm before wrapping them around my own. His eyes dance between mine, silently asking me if I feel it, too. And I do. How in every other life, every version of existence, we still find each other. It’s always been him. It’s always been us. I feel every bit of it.
“Were you able to get a lot done at work?" His mom snaps us out of our bubble.
Colt clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. The job we’re working on now is just about done.” His tone is light-hearted, but I still catch the shadows on his face and the way his jaw clenches. His whole demeanor changes, but he recovers quickly. If Leann notices, she doesn’t say anything.
The timer on the oven goes off and Colt helps me dish up plates. “Are you okay?” I ask quietly. It’s not normal for Colt to seem so on edge.
He gives me a tight smile. “I’m okay.”
“Anything happen at work?” I can feel it in the air. Something is off.
Colt gets three forks from a drawer and places them on the plates. “No Libs, everything is good.” He grabs two of the plates and sets them on the table before coming back to grab the last one. I place my hand on top of his just before he takes it.
“I’m here if you need to talk about anything. You know that, right?”
He smiles again, but it still doesn’t match his eyes. “Of course,” he says, and kisses my forehead.
We spend the rest of the evening retelling Colt all the stories I got to hear about him today. The bit of cheek that peeks out from the top of his beard turns pink with each one. But he listens intently as we laugh about them all over again. And by the end, I can’t help but wonder if this is what it’s like to fall in love. The real way — unconditionally.
47
Itried to be a better person. I tried to keep control of my anger, to go about things like nothing had happened. But all it did was keep me up all night. And after five hours of mulling over just how much danger this guy put Libby in, I’d decided enough was enough.
I beat against the door again. It’s early on a Monday morning, long before any offices open. There’s no way he’s not home. I know what the fuck he did. And I’ll be damned if he thinks he gets to go one more day unscathed.
“Answer the fucking door, Jett,” I demand between clenched teeth. My whole body aches from the tension I’ve had the last twelve hours. I don’t like keeping things from Libby, but she’s been doing so good, seemingly anxiety free. And none of this deserves her attention. Not when the police already have her dad in custody. Apparently, her mom isn’t the only person he preyed upon, and they’ve been looking for him for a while. As for this Jett, this ends today.
The door opens, revealing a very groggy, very confused little man. “What the fuck—” I shove him inside and pin him against the wall, which seems to have him waking up rather quickly. “Wha—” I push my forearm against his throat harder, cutting off his words. Tears well up in his eyes and adams apple tries to bob under my arm. Don’t kill him. I back off enough to let him breathe again.
“What did I tell you was going to happen if you messed with her again?”
“It w-wasn’t m-me,” he stammers.
“You think I don’t know that? You don’t have the fucking guts to do anything other than hit on women.” The words alone are bitter on my tongue. “But you played a part in that salon getting broken into. I don’t care if you’re the one who called Joe, or the one who told him which station was hers. You had a hand in it.”
“She had it coming,” he spits. “You think you can fool everyone that you two are actually married? Playing house doesn’t mean shit when it comes to that money. Money that I’m owed. Money I earned.”
Luckily, I had the forethought to text Tyson to meet me here. Unfortunately for Jett, he isn’t here yet, and I left my dignity on the doorstep.
Cocking my arm back, I land a shot right into his nose. Jett drops to the ground, but I’m not done. He needs way more than a broken nose. I climb on top of him and throw another jab. Then another. Unleashing on him until someone is hauling me off of him, but I shrug them off. I’m not sure if it’s my questionable headspace or the blood that is everywhere, but I only see red.
I grab Jett by the hair and hold him up so he can look at me with his one good eye. “You earned nothing. You’re owed nothing. And if you think for a fucking second that you get anything from Libby, I’ll be right back here to remind you what happens when you mess with my wife.” As I throw his head back down, I’m finally pulled from him.
“Come on, Colt. He ain’t worth it, man.” Tyson’s voice brings me back to reality. He shoves me out the front door and keeps a hand on my shoulder until we are at my truck. “You good?”
My adrenaline starts to dump as I catch my breath. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“You want to tell me what the fuck all of that was about?”
