Page 27 of Forgive You

“This again.” The motherfuckerrollshis eyes at me. “I was drunk and you’re overreacting.”

Drunk?!I don’t care how drunk he was. It doesn’t even fucking matter. He broke me that night, and I willnotlet him trample over whatever is left of me.

“You hurt me, Jacob.” I fucking growl this time, making sure he’s able to burn it into his thick head. “Do you hear me?You. Hurt. Me.”

Giving me an expression as ifI’mcrazy, he lifts his hands, palms up.

He’s a fucking psychopath.

“I will sign,” I start. “I will sign, but after that, we are done. You’re taking the next flight back home, sort the paperwork, and tell my father we broke up and that I’m not coming back. I will sign everything, but this ends NOW. You don’t chase me. You don’t stalk me.”

“I never stalked you.”

Now I’m rolling my eyes because him being here is literally him stalking me, but I know it’s no use. It’s like talking to a fucking wall.

“And you will not tell your brothers we are still together.” I continue, rubbing my sweaty palms to the gold sequins of my dress. “We are not.”

My relationship with Jason is beyond fucked up, but I will no longer lie about my relationship status with his brother. I have no illusions we can work shit out and be friends again, but now that we’re working together, I’m not gonna make it worse either.

“You’re gonna fuck him, aren’t you?”

He really doesn’t know when to stop, does he? He just keeps pushing and pushing.

I slice him another glare. “And you sure as shit are not gonna be asking about who I fuck or not fuck, because it’s none of your fucking business.”

Jacob lowers his slick voice, a snarl forming on his lips. “If you tell him and he comes for me…I will destroy him. And I will sell my share of Bradford Real Estate to the highest bidder.”

I believe him. I have no doubt Jacob has no issues dragging down my father or his brother as collateral if he doesn’t get what he wants.

“Keep him out of this, Julie. Not a word,” he threatens, and I roll my lips, then give him a look of death.

Asshole.

“Not a word.”

8

Is this supposed to be this fucking hard?

“Keep your shoulders flat on the floor.”Yeah, okay, doing that.“Then lift your feet up and let them slowly fall past your head. That’s it. You feel that? Feel that stretching of your spine? Now breathe in.”

“Breathe in? How the fuck am I supposed tobreathe in?” I shout to nothing in my little bedroom as I glance at my iPad propped up against the wall.

I let my feet fall a little farther like she suggests in the video until a jolt of pain jerks me off balance and a screech echoes through the room until I’m spread out on my yoga mat like a starfish.

The voice continues as if yoga is the easiest thing in the world, and I give the screen the stink eye.

“This is supposed to be relaxing,Sun by Sailor.” Pouting, I reach out to grab the device from the floor, press stop, and chuck it on my bed. “This is not fucking relaxing.”

Nothing is. I’ve tried everything. Watching a movie. Went on a run. I’d take a bath if I had one, because I’m dying to sink intosome hot water, but I had to do with a semi hot shower. Only, nothing calms my fucking mind.

I debated pulling out my Magic Wand, but just the thought alone brought me back to thinking about Jason and that’s exactly what I’m tryingnotto do.

But how can I not?

It’s ridiculous how those Spencer boys keep living rent free in my head and not for any good reasons.

I stare up at the white ceiling, my limbs feeling heavier than they should.

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