Page 151 of Tempting Fate

The coldness in his voice freezes the blood in my veins. My pulse whooshes in my ears. I swallow down the bile that invades my throat and force myself to stand. My legs are a little shaky, but my step is sure as I stride toward the doors.

Of course, I have to pass by Zeke to exit.

The universe is obviously against me.

“Well, there you have it,” I declare, determined to have the last word. “Almost six years wasted.”

When I draw near to Zeke, I hold my breath so I don’t inhale his cologne. The last thing I need is to have him stuck in my head. It’s bad enough that I can remember every word he ever said. Every promise he ever made. Every time he vowed he’d always love me. How he begged me to trust him. I don’t need my memories compounded by his unique scent warping my brain.

Zeke takes hold of my wrist and tugs me to a stop. Hope swells within my chest, optimism that he quickly douses with a solid dose of reality. “I’ll have your things sent to Slash’s. The house is going on the market next week.”

“Great.” I yank my arm free of his grip. “Just fucking great. Why don’t you just set it on fire instead? That’ll get rid of all traces of me even quicker.”

It takes every ounce of strength I possess to stop myself from running out of the chapel. I make it to the empty main bar, maintaining a steady, if jerky, pace before I sag to my knees. Struggling to catch my breath, I close my eyes and hide my face in my hands. In this position, a small twinge in my ribs reminds me that I’m nowhere near one hundred percent yet. So far, I’ve been lucky. The damage to my body is healing well. Bebe has been impressed with my improvement.

The only problem with the restoration of my appearance is that it hides how my insides are deteriorating by the second.

Red-raw and bleeding.

Blistered after being incinerated by Zeke’s rejection.

Infected with loneliness.

My outsides might be returning to normal.

It’s an illusion.

My head and my heart are shutting down.

My desire to cut is stalking me with the intensity of a hungry mountain lion.

“One second at a time,” I whisper to myself.

The mantra from my therapy sessions feels insufficient to support me through the total annihilation of the life I’d built, yet it’s really the only way to survive right now. It takes a few minutes of repeating the sentence to calm myself enough to contemplate leaving.

My hand freezes on the door handle when I realise that I left my purse hanging over the chair I was using in the chapel. I backtrack as quietly as I can. As I go, I pray that Zeke will be gone. I know it’s a stupid wish. There’s only one way out of the clubhouse unless he jumps out a window.

That doesn’t stop me from hoping he has left already.

“No such luck,” I grumble when I stop outside the double doors that lead into the chapel.

They’re still ajar from my flouncing exit so I can hear their voices.

“I’m glad our deal seems to be gettin’ off on the right foot,” my father remarks.

The sound of palms slapping on the table and a chair falling over makes me jerk back from the gap.

Boots pound the floor, heading for me.

I’d recognise Zeke’s swagger anywhere.

He’s going to catch me listening to them.

The footsteps stop.

“Don’t get too comfortable in that seat,” Zeke comments in a voice laced with a barely suppressed promise of violence. “I might do anythin’ to protect Lily, but that doesn’t mean my patience is infinite. You’ll make a misstep. Get too big for your fuckin’ boots. Whisper sweet nothing’s in the wrong cut slut’s ear. And when you do, I’ll pounce. Only this time, it won’t just be your face I slice open… it’ll be your chest. Rippin’ that black heart free of your rib cage while it’s still beatin’ is the only thing that’s gonna make me whole after what you’ve done.”

I slap my hand over my mouth to stop my shocked gasp from being heard.

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