Page 4 of Bona Fide

“I’m still married to you,” she retorts. “And always will be. I’ll be the next Jackie-O, adored and idolized by the people. You built exactly what we wanted for us.”

“For you,” I snap. “But you’re not in the equation anymore.” For the first time, I look over at her and really look at her.

That time that has come between us, it does nothing that I wanted it to do to her. She’s still as stunningly beautiful as the day I sent her away. Appealing blue eyes and striking bone structure, vibrant pink lips that spilled lies and promises that I relied on. Her glimmering gold dress hugs her curves, ones I still know by heart, but now—they do shit for me.

God fucking forbid the woman develops a wrinkle or bad skin. Maybe a droopy eye or some shit, I don’t know. But those blue eyes that mock what I’m saying right now, they only remind me of purple ones.

It hurls me back to Reagan, the moment we had a few hours ago in that dingy coat closet. How everything with her just took away the stress, my reality. There wasn’t anywhere else I wanted to be then but with her.

And now it’s gone—just like that.

With a snap of Demi’s fingers, she just took away another thing from me. Something that made me happy and calm through the frazzled chaos that always visits me on a daily basis.

“It’s good to be back,” Demi announces with a quirk of her lips. “I look forward to working with you again.” Her eyes fall down the length of my body. “And to reconnect.”

My feet move forward an inch, it’s all I need because that’s how close she is. My fingertips beg to wrap around her neck and squeeze. To just end this evil bitch before she causes more bullshit for me to go through and have to fix.

“You want to be back,” I recite, peering down at her. “Welcome back, baby. Remember when you always wanted me to fuck you in the ass...I’m about to.”

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