Page 5 of Lynch's Match

Total bullshit.

What the hell am I doing here? It’s been years since I’ve seen her. I didn’t even know she was back in town. Not until the other day when, out of the blue, she strutted that sweet ass of hers back into my life.

My fucking wife.

We’d been stupid and young. I wanted to believe I could have something as sweet as Camilla, but she proved me wrong. I should have known better because I’m older than her by five years. But when I met her, we started out as just friends. I didn’t want to end up locked up for falling for a girl. It was her eighteenth birthday, and she wanted to take the next step. We ended up taking things further by sealing the deal. Her aunt wanted us apart, and Camilla refused to hear of it. Even when she left for college, I made trips there to see her, and when she came home for holiday breaks, I made sure to spend every minute I could with her.

That all changed about six months into it.

Shit went down, and I lost her. She did shit to hurt me, and for that, I can’t forgive her, but she’s still my wife. I’m not about to sign those papers for her. Not without knowing the truth. Why did she fuck us up? Why leave me stranded? Why come back here? And why the fuck does she want those papers signed all of a sudden?

Seems like a lifetime ago. Now, she’s back and wants a divorce.

Fuck that. There’s no way in hell I’m about to give her what she wants. She waited years to come at me with this shit, and she wants me to give in now? No fucking way. I have questions, and I’ll be damned if she’s not going to answer them.

I could easily ask Fuse to look into her and find out what all I want to know, but after what I did to her in my room, hiking that sweet ass skirt of hers up and fucking her the way I did, I need to do this myself. The way she caught fire for me, yeah, it was hot, and I want inside her again.

Sitting astride my bike, I readjust my cock behind the zipper. I check the time again and wonder when the fuck she’ll step out of the damn office building. I’m giving her another five minutes, and then I’m going in there.

The two of us have quite a bit to get straight, and I’d prefer to deal with it privately, but I don’t have any issues facing off with her in front of others.

Moments later, I spot her coming out the front doors and nearly see red. She walks into the arms of another man. One I know. One that is my personal enemy.

Four years ago, I killed his father. Now, he’s touching my wife.

This can’t be right. No damn way would Camilla allow herself to be with a man like him. She knows better.Is he the reason she wants a divorce? If that’s the case, she isn’t fucking getting it. No fucking way. There’s no way he’s with her to be with her.

Ezra Pennington warned me years ago, just before I slit his throat, I wouldn’t get away with it, not without repercussions. I didn’t understand what he was talking about then, but I get it now.

Four years ago, so many things happened, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I found a journal that belonged to my mother in a safety deposit box after getting contacted by some lawyer who had been hired to handle her affairs. I remember the woman who gave birth to me and my sister. She was sweet, if not a bit flighty. A wild soul, my aunt Ela once described her as. She’d given up custody to my uncle Fury when we were just little kids, saying she wasn’t a good mom.

In the journal, it explained things further. She was being threatened and didn’t want my uncle to know. To protect Harlow and me, she left, and never come back. A life insurance policy was left to both my sister and me. I’d told Harlow about it, but she didn’t want anything to do with it, I didn’t either. Though we both agreed to keep this to ourselves no one else needed to know about it.

What I didn’t tell Harlow either is that I looked into the threat against our mom. Found it was Ezra Pennington and that, in the end, he’d been the one to kill our mother after raping her and beating her for a few years. She somehow escaped, that’s when I set everything up. Not long after she was recaptured, and then Ezra did the deed.

Because of what he did to her, I reaped the same fate on him. I didn’t think anything else of it. I should have, though. I knew he had a son, Ezra Pennington II.

I’m guessing he’s the reason no one knows of his father’s death. He assumed the seat. Now, he’s holding Camilla in his arms. There’s no way he’s holding her because he wants her. Not entirely.There’s another reason behind it, and I’m willing to bet it’s to seek revenge against me.

There’s no way he doesn’t know Camilla is still married to me. It wasn’t hard for me to find out that she never changed her name back after we got married and the courts declared her a Corbin.

It looks like there’s a bit more for me and Camilla to discuss. There’s no way I’ll step aside again because of the bullshit between us.

The other day speaks for itself. Fucking her the way I did. Seeing the way she lit up for me. Yeah, that was epic. I haven’t had any other woman who did that for me.

What guts me, though, is the reason behind the bullshit. It’s what the two of us have to set straight. Then I have to decide what to do with her.

Years ago, my aunt Ela claimed Camilla was my match, but I’m not so certain anymore. If she were, she never would have believed the lies she’d been handed about me. She should have come to me with her questions instead of believing her aunt. That bitch had never liked me from the get-go and didn’t care to keep her opinion to herself.

For now, I’ll leave her to that asshole and watch her back. Later, that’s when I’ll move in and make sure she knows the score.

I park my bike along with the rest of the others in front of the clubhouse. I put the kickstand down, swing my leg over, and straighten. I’m not one for dealing with emotions. It’s the last thing I want to be dealing with right now, but seeing Camilla again, seeing her with Ezra, I’m nearing my limit of bullshit I can handle. I need a drink and then to get in the ring with either Fuse or Pitch Black.

If I don’t do something about the anger raging through my veins soon, I’m going to lose it altogether, and my brothers are gonna not only question me further than they already have, but they’ll go ballistic on me. I’m usually calm and cool, levelheaded. When it comes to Camilla, I don’t think I can think clearly. Not completely, that is.

We’ve got enough bullshit to deal with as it is, I don’t need anything else. I definitely don’t need the images of Camilla kissing the son of the man who killed my mother.

I shake the thought away, release a heavy breath, and stalk toward the doors, spotting Bart out of the corner of my eye. “Yo, Bart,” I call out to the gator and make my way inside.

---