Page 46 of The Longshot

“I don’t think so, mate.” The second I straighten my spine, I gain two inches on him. “You heard what she said, right? Now, I suggest you back the fuck up from my girlfriend before I make you.”

He doesn’t comply. Instead, he does the complete opposite and moves in closer, glaring at me as if I’m the scum on the bottom of his shoe. “And who the fuck are you exactly?”

“Besides her boyfriend.” I don’t recoil in the slightest. “I’m Gary fucking Wilkinson, mate, and for the record, you’re in my town. So, I’d watch what you say to me.”

He sucks in a breath, disregarding my threat entirely as he shoots daggers in Chelsie’s direction.

His stare alone is enough to make her cower backward—a response that only heightens my hatred towards him.

“You mean to tell me that we broke up, and within a month, you’ve moved on with this guy?” He clutches a hold of her wrist, and I just about almost lose it. “Are you fucking serious?”

Chelsie’s only response to his demeaning tone is to stammer with uncertainty while using her free hand to rub her palms against her apron. It’s clear to me that she has no idea what to say. No idea what to do. But it’s a good thing I do.

Somehow, I find myself striding forward, clutching ahold of his shoulder to pull him back, this time, using the distance my force provided to fill the space between them.

He’s not getting within another centimeter of her.

“You know what?” My voice is enough to command his attention away from her and onto me. “Chelsie did tell me about you actually.” I narrow in on my stare. “Though, it wasn’t very memorable...”

He grumbles under his breath, pushing his luck by attempting to sidestep around me, but I’m too quick and immediately block his path, using my body as a weapon to shield her away.

“Don’t even think about taking another step,” I tell him as he looks me up and down in disgust. It’s clear he’s never had anyone challenge him before. There’s always a first for everything.

My guess? He’s a rich boy from the city—riding on Mummy and Daddy’s money with a superiority complex and the logic that the sun shines from out of his arse.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” He shakes his head, a smug smirk rising to his lips, confirming my thoughts to be true. “Are you being for real, darling?”

His use of the word “darling” warrants a familiar memory from the day Chelsie and I met when she scolded me for my continual use of that nickname.

“Sure, darling. I’ll wait here.”

“Please. Don’t keep calling me that.”

It’s all starting to make sense.

He’s the reason.

He’s the reason she asked me to stop.

“Nearly three years together, and you’re really going to let him do this?” he groans on.

Three years?

She spent nearly three years with this wanker? It’s hardly been three minutes, and I’m about ready to strangle him myself.

Hastily, I turn back, desperate to see her once more. As I look for her face, all I can see is her shifting gaze lingering towards the ground. Not only can she hardly speak, but she can hardly look at this guy.

It’s okay, though. She doesn’t need to shout from the rooftops for me to get a message; all I need is for her to give me a sign. One sign, and he’ll be gone.

I’ll make sure of it.

“Chelsie?” My voice is tender, hopeful she’ll peer up at me. It takes her a second, but when she recognizes that it’s me who's the one who’s talking, she meets my eyes.

It pains me when I look at her. It’s a look unlike I’ve ever seen before—a look that is nowhere near the girl whose face I’ve had the joy of seeing each day this week.

Where’s that girl?

I need her to come back to me, and I know in my heart that the only way she will is if he’s nowhere to be seen.

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