Page 95 of Love Thief

‘Drugs it is then,’ I think, and ask Gabe if he has any. Of course he does, he’s been spiralling for months. Well, I may as well join him. Misery loves a bit of company.

We land, we go out, we party, we go home, we go out, we party, we go home, we party, rinse and repeat for weeks. I’ve had more women try to suck my cock in the past three weeks than in my entire life. But I can’t do it. I see the hair in my hands and it’s not hers. It’s game over.

The phone ringing is my downfall. My heart stops every fucking time, but still the call doesn’t come. I know I told her not to, but really? I dare not ask Xander, working on the fact he would actually tell me.

I hear an English voice, a woman, my heart rate picks up in response, my blood starts to fizz.

Is she here? Nooooo.

Fuck, it’s Grace and Lauren. Gabe has flown them over at Becky’s insistence.

They come straight to me, touching me, making my fucking skin crawl. They’re offering sympathy. Why? What do they know?

I look up at Xan, he shrugs.

They’ve both dyed their hair the same colour as Evie’s. Stalkers or what? But hey ho, might help with the cock sucking I guess.

That will really fuck her up. It’s her fucking fault, anyway. She did this. It’s not my fault.

I told her what I wanted—or in this case, didn’t want—and she ignored me as ever. She’s a pain in the arse. Doing whatever the fuck she wants. Not caring. Not loving me. ME. It’s all her fault, she deserves it. It’s certainly not my fault Gabe brought them out here. No, it’s not my fault at all.

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

EVIE

My twenty week scan includes a visit with a super scanner. You can see the babies’ faces. Jonno cries. I do not. The duct strike is still in force. I touch my stomach. I really can’t stop; there are no words for how wonderful it is.

We get pictures, sending them to James and the family. I send none to Kellen, not a one.

Unfortunately, he sends me lots of pictures, via the press, social media platforms, and gossip sites.

He is everywhere. With them. Where I should be angry, I’m numb. I won’t even allow myself to feel, to waste one iota of thoughts on them. They are not worth it.

I move back to my apartment. It’s time to go home and move on. I don’t want to live with my brothers again. I tell them over dinner and I can see how worried they all are. They’ve seen the pictures. But I need my own space to be able to sort myself out and, besides, Tommy is with me.

“But there will be more paps due to you being here and pregnant and him over there and a dickhead.” Jonno is trying to talk me out of it, worry oozing out of him.

“You know my building is mega secure. I can use the basement garage to get in and out of the car. I’ll even get another security guy if you want. Do you have any women on payroll?” I’m placating them, but I’m going regardless.

“Yes, Lily, she’s really good actually. That’s a good shout. She can go with into toilets and everything.” I can see Jonno’s eyes light up as he thinks about how he can get increased security.

“Great, even more places to be scrutinised by you.” I smile at him through my sarcasm.

He’s been a great partner so far. Never moaned once at the length of time things can take—Dr. Theodore is very thorough. And I am high-hormonal maintenance.

The pictures just keep coming. I limit my already very limited eating out time, as we get hassled everywhere. Apparently, the delightful Lauren has posted on her blog that the babies ‘may not’ be Kellen’s—untrue. She’s gone further, stating we were not married when I got pregnant—true.

I’m getting a lot of hate for cheating on my poor husband. Who, due to his unfair treatment, is sinking into the depths of depravity, for all the world to see, daily.

It’s not his fault he’s taking so many drugs and drinking himself into oblivion.

It’s not his fault he’s staggering out of nightclubs, women hanging off him.

It’s not his fault, it’s mine—what a lying, cheating, lowlife I am.

James comes home for a couple of days. He takes one look at me and starts to cry. His tear ducts are not on strike.

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