Page 102 of Perfect Pursuit

“Do you think I did the right thing?”

“I do. And Fallon?” Paige’s expression is pure evil. “I hope every moment he’s trying to reach you makes my brother suffer.”

“All I did was block him. I know eventually I’ll have to end things between us like a mature adult, but with facing losing Mama and then having him ambush me the last night I worked for Devil’s Lair at the same time? All that time together, and he didn’t trust me.”

I swipe at my eyes before admitting, “I haven’t told you both the things he said. Needless to say, he gutted me.”

Paige looks at Austyn. “Are you speaking with your uncle?”

To my shock, Austyn shakes her head. “I refuse, Mama. With everything they went through before they were intimate, he didn’t stop to think, ‘This is my friend. Let me find out what’s happened to drive her to do something like this?’ They weren’t some one-night stand at a club. He knew her.”

“Yes, he did. And he should have known better.”

“I’m sorry, Paige.” I feel like I need to apologize for causing this strife in her family.

“Don’t be. It’s obvious to me Ethan just stopped emotionally maturing before he needed to.” She lets out a heartfelt sigh of displeasure that causes Austyn to crack up. “On the other hand, it will make it completely understandable to people why he would be in love with someone at his same level of emotional maturity at such a young age.”

Austyn somehow manages to hold her wine upright as she rolls back and forth on the floor, laughing. I’m not quite as amused as my soul feels like it has gaping wounds. I challenge Paige. “You’re assuming I’m ever going to want him back.”

“After I’m done kicking his ass, you might.”

Dear lord, Ethan will have no idea what hit him.

Paige beams at me before holding out the wine. “More wine?”

I exchange my glass for the bottle. “Thank you.”

I need to forget my heart’s been shattered just for a night.

Tomorrow’s soon enough to begin to locate the slivers of pieces.

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

KENSINGTON, TEXAS

Saratoga Springs, N.Y. “They say ‘Don’t hate the player, hate the game.’ Well, it was your choice to play against people better than you.”

—Castor CEO Leanne Miles, when asked by a reporter about winning a new software bid.

It’s been a week and my hatred for Thorn is spiraling along with my desperation to reach Fallon. He had Leanne pull some of her voodoo magic, so every time I try to search for Fallon, even on the open internet, the results are a bunch of Jimmy Fallon and the Roots classroom instrument videos.

No matter how many different ways I search for information to determine why Thorn is so protective and furious, Leanne finds a way to block me on every single one of my devices. The damn hoyden even managed to figure out my move to buy a new laptop and shut me down that way. She’s gotten so nasty that she’s leaving little notes in my dark web inbox to fully express her disdain.

To: “Whiskey”

From: “Q?za”

Subject: Filia

The first time I met her, I knew she was something special. No one goes for the guy who is a lovable geek but can’t drive a Ferrari.

I like her. You’re wrong. Therefore, you pay.

Leanne’s creative side—a side she once shared with her deceased twin—must have been stirred up. Her next reminder of how I fucked up was in the simplest code ever designed—music lyrics.

To: “Whiskey”

From: “Q?za”

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