Page 30 of The Final Straw

“What the fuck, Bre? I thought you were trying to help me win her back and here you are excited that she was with someone else? That she could be sleeping with them?”

“Chill, Van. Damn, it isn’t like she doesn’t have three holes. There’s still one for you. What’s wrong with her being treated like the goddess that she is? If you truly love and want her, you’ll fight for her, even if it means she’s not solely yours.”

“But when did she even meet them?” There’s no way she was seeing them while she was with me. She’s not like that.

She’s quiet for a moment, like she’s trying to think before she speaks again.

“Well, I took her out dancing a week or so ago so she could stop wallowing over your ass. She did meet two sexy ass old dudes, and she ended up leaving with them.”

Bre’s calm as hell, but now I’m even more chaotic. “She went home with them?” I ask, but I’m not even sure I want to know the answer.

“Yup. She sure as hell did. Olivia was thinking about seeing them again, so I’m pretty confident that's who you saw.”

She’s moved on. Barbi made her believe I was unfaithful and pushed her away for good. There’s no way she’s going to want me.

“Why am I even doing this then, Bre? It’s clear she’s moved on. She met not one but two men, went home with them, and is continuing to see them. Shit, Bre, you didn’t see the look in her eyes when she saw me.”

I can feel the walls of the bathroom crashing in on me. A stall door opens and an elderly man steps out and washes his hands. He keeps glancing over at me, and I know he feels pity for me. He finishes up, pulling a paper towel from the dispenser, and dries his hands.

I think he’s about to leave when he stops and places his hand on my shoulder. “I don’t know what you did, son, but if you love her, fight for her.” With those words of wisdom, he turns and leaves the bathroom.

“Van, Earth to Van, are you there? Did you pass out and hit your head on the sink? Are you lying in a pool of blood as you take your last breath? Should I call 911? Because if you’re dead, there’s no need to.”

“What?” I ask, confused at what the hell she’s talking about.

“He lives. Thank god. I thought I was going to have to break into your house for a minute, erase your porn history, and check your dresser for anything you wouldn’t want your mother to find.”

“Bre, can we be serious here?”

“What makes you think I’m not? But, like I was saying before you zoned out, it's a no-brainer why you’re doing this. Do I need to list the reasons? First, if Barbi touched you without consent, it's a crime no matter what, and she needs to be punished. Second, and most important, you want your woman back. That’s something you seem to keep forgetting.”

“But she’s with others already!” I blurt in frustration.

“So, who cares? Van, get your head out of your ass. I pose for covers all the time for books that are more than two people together. It's not that crazy. Maybe she'll keep all of you for her own little harem. I knew my girl was a kinky little bitch. But you don’t need to worry about that right now. The only thing you need to be focused on is getting that bitch’s confession. That’s the only thing that’s going to prove to Olivia and anyone else that you didn't cheat on her. Now, get your ass out of the bathroom and back to Barbi. She’s probably wondering what’s taking you so long.”

“Okay. Fine.” I end the call, sliding my phone back into my pocket.

Taking a deep breath, knowing I’m going to need to stay composed to deal with the daughter of Lucifer himself, I take hold of the door and open it.

I count to calm my nerves while I head down the hallway. When I reach the first table, I see Barbi sitting in a booth, compact in hand, as she touches up her makeup. Even now, she has a prissy ass scowl on her face. Well, until she glances up and sees me.

She begins squirming in her seat as she bats her lashes. God, I’m going to be sick.

“What took you so long?” she asks as I step up to the table, shifting to sit down across from her.

“My boss called and I had to take it.” She wraps her claws around my arm and pulls me down beside her. “No, Vanny baby, I want you to sit here so we can cuddle together.”

“I’ve told you to stop calling me that,” I remind her.

“Why?” she whines shrilly and my eardrums ring.

“One, and most importantly, I hate it. Second, I’m not your baby. We’re not together. Never have been, never will be. It took you drugging me to get me to have sex with you,” I say through gritted teeth, trying my damndest to not cause a scene since we’re in public.

She pouts and I fight to keep from rolling my eyes. I need to remember what I’m here for. To get her to confess that she fucking drugged and raped me. Because Bre is right, that’s exactly what it was.

“Whatever. I know how you really feel. Your cock told me everything I needed to know. When can we fuck again, baby? I need to burn off some frustration. My dad is being such an ass lately.”

Is she for real?

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