Page 34 of Fletch

“No,” I begin to protest.

“Who said I’m a criminal?” asks Fletch, pushing to sit up. He grabs his T-shirt from the floor and pulls it over my head. If it wasn’t for the utter panic I’m currently feeling, I’d think it was sweet he’d taken the time to cover me up. “You’re purely seeing the tatts and jumping to assumptions. Not cool, man.”

“Fuck you,” Pete hisses angrily.

Fletch arches a brow as he pulls on his boxer shorts. “You’re being a prick.”

“You’re fucking my wife!” Pete screams.

Fletch stands, and I groan. “Firstly, she ain’t your wife. Secondly, she kicked your cheating arse out for good reason.”

“She told you?” asks Pete, sounding astounded. He brings his hateful glare back to me. “How long has this been going on?”

“Nothing’s going on,” I mutter feebly.

“You told him about our private business, Gem. Who the fuck is this wanker?”

“We’ll have less of the name calling,” snaps Fletch.

“Get out,” Pete demands. “Get out of here and stay the hell away from my wife.”

“Again, she’s not your wife.”

“Fletch,” I hiss, “just go.”

“Me go?” he snaps.

“You heard her, get out,” Pete adds, then his eyes narrow. “Hold on . . . Fletch?” He glances at me then back at Fletch. “Not Cameron Fletcher?”

Fletch grins. “The one and only.”

“Please, just give us a moment. I need to talk to him,” I mutter, risking a glance in Fletch’s direction. He begins to dress, and when I go to remove his shirt, he shakes his head, grabbing his kutte and storming out. Great.

“What the hell is he doing back?” Pete hisses.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It fucking matters,” he yells.

“Can you stop yelling?” I growl. “Ruby is here.”

“Oh wow,” he grumbles, shaking his head and placing his hands on his hips. “So, you had a criminal here to fuck while your little sister was stopping over?”

“Why are you even here?”

“To sort things out, but I don’t know if I want to after seeing you with him.”

I scoff. “Are you actually serious? After everything you’ve done?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You’re right,” he states, his hand dropping to his side. He perches on the edge of the bed. “You’re right. Let’s call it quits.”

I laugh, waiting for him to tell me he’s joking. When he doesn’t join me, my smile fades. “You’re being serious?”

He grabs my hand. “Babe, this can work. We just need to talk things through and be honest with one another.”

“Honest?”

“Yes. If I can just explain what I find in those women that I don’t find in you, maybe we can work through it.”

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