Page 68 of Christmas with my Three Best Friends

Vincent now understands that the cat is out of the bag. All he can do is stand on the porch as he slowly closes the ring box and tucks it back into his jacket pocket, his cold gaze never leaving mine.

“And the whole there’s-no-other-woman-for-me shtick is getting tiresome,” I add laughing, “given that just the other day you were tongue-wrestling the crap out of Roxanne. I mean, you two couldn’t even be discreet about it. In the middle of the gym parking lot, of all the places in this world. And now, you have the audacity to drag your sorry ass up here with what is likely a fake diamond ring and expect me to fall for the same bullshit twice? Seriously, Vincent, do I really look that stupid to you?”

I whip my phone out and show him the screen. Marius emailed me photos of Vincent and Roxanne earlier in the morning. He didn’t write or say anything about it, but I understand the assignment. I understand why he wanted me to see these images. No matter what, Marius will always be a good friend, and he will always look after me. That much is undeniable at this point.

“You spied on me?” Vincent croaks, feigning outrage.

“Oh, no, not at all. A concerned citizen sent these to me,” I reply, laughing. “I let you do your number, you know. I let you come into my gym like a pious little lamb, I watched you trying to weasel your way back into my life. I’ll admit, for a second there… with the flowers and the Belgian chocolates, I thought I saw a glimpse of the real you until I remembered that was never the real you. That was always a lie. The coward standing in front of me, now… This is the real you.”

“Shay, you have to let me explain, it’s not what you think.”

“It’s not? So, what, you were giving Roxanne an in-depth tonsillectomy? What about Cherry and Laura and all the other girls?” I scoff. “Come on, Vincent, you know I’m not buying whatever it is you’re trying to sell here. You might as well stop wasting your breath, buddy. It ain’t happening.”

Vincent takes a step forward, his shoulders suddenly broader, a darkness gathering in his eyes—the kind of darkness that makes my whole frame tighten with tension. “You don’t understand, Shay. I love you, I’ve always loved you. You belong with me.”

“I need you to keep your distance,” I immediately warn him.

When did he become a threat? When did he lose the last shred of humanity? Or maybe he never had any. Either way, my adrenaline is ignited. My instincts are kicking in, and while I may be alone here in this cabin, I am anything but helpless. The child in my womb needs my protection. Vincent has no idea what he’s trying to wade into.

“Why, Shay? I thought you loved me. Missed me. I remember your social media posts. Those thoughtful, soppy pieces about how I would one day regret losing you,” Vincent replies with a mocking tone of his voice. “I’ve watched you for months as you struggled to regain your dignity and look at you now. All alone on the edge of some Canadian woods. Is this the life you wanted? Don’t you see? The only reason I walked away from you is because you kept telling me you would always be fine on your own. Are you fine, Shay? Are you, really?”

“I’m infinitely better with you out of my life,” I reply, lifting an eyebrow.

“We’ll see about that,” he says and tries to come in.

With lightning speed and all of my kickboxing training instantly activated, I kick Vincent as hard as I can right in the nuts. There’s not enough neoprene and synthetic down to protect him from the strength of my blow. He cries out in sheer agony, doubling over before he collapses on his side with a disgraceful thud against the old, creaky wooden porch.

He curses under his ragged breath, steam rolling from his purplish lips as he looks up at me in sheer disbelief. This isn’t an outcome he was even prepared for, and I thrive on the horrified expression on his face.

“You’d better be gone by the time I open this door again, or I’ll call the sheriff,” I reply bluntly. “Your choice, Vincent. But don’t ever show your face anywhere near me ever again. And consider yourself banned from West Key Gym, as well. Disappear again. For good, this time. Or there will be consequences.”

“Shay…” Vincent coughs as he struggles to pull himself back up, red-faced and sweaty. Every motion seems to amplify the pain in his groin, though. It’ll take a while for him to actually get out of here, I reckon, noticing the rental sedan he parked outside the front gate.

“You’ve got five minutes,” I tell him. “I was stupid once, Vincent. I’m never going to be stupid again. The girl you fooled once is long dead. This one, on the other hand, will hang you by your balls if you so much as breathe the same air as me ever again. Get lost.”

I slam the door shut and lock it, too, for good measure, cursing until my ears turn red. I grab the fire poker, just in case, and settle back in my armchair, ready to call the cops if need be. I listen to the grunting and scratching outside as Vincent slips a couple of times before he finally manages to get up. A smile creeps across my face as his receding footsteps end with a car door slamming shut and an engine roaring to life.

Minutes pass in silence as the adrenaline begins to wear off.

I’m shaking like a leaf. I’m sobbing, almost out of my mind as I experience the strangest kind of relief. But it feels good. It washes over me, and a strange kind of joy flows through my veins. I’m laughing and crying at the same time.

Maybe I should’ve kicked Vincent in the balls the moment he walked into the gym. That would’ve saved me so much trouble, so much uncertainty. I suppose hindsight is always 20/20. It takes a while for my breathing to recover, but I cherish every moment of this sweet recovery as I feel my own power—truly, for the first time. He almost had me going. I almost believed he’d changed, if only slightly enough to make things right with me.

It’s a good thing he didn’t.

Another knock on the door has me jumping out of my seat, though. Within two seconds, I’m tense and ready to fight again. What is he doing back here? I wasn’t kidding. I’m still holding the fire poker, for Pete’s sake. I will smack him until he can’t get up anymore, if that’s what it takes to free myself of him.

KNOCK KNOCK.

“Oh, for…” I gasp, then shout. “Vincent, go away! I’m calling the cops!”

“Shay!”

Marius’s voice has my heart thumping in a different rhythm as I quickly realize who is standing beyond that door. I drop the poker and the phone and rush over to greet him.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, a muted sense of deja-vu lingering in the back of my head as I see Marius, Jax, and Richard standing on the front porch of my rental cabin. “How many people know where I’m spending my holidays? Jesus!”

The three of them stare at me, understandably confused. But by the stars, they’re gorgeous and quite the sight for these sore and tired eyes. Clad in jeans and thick winter coats, my men tower over me as I’m compelled to take a couple of steps back, if only to better look at them, to take them in, inch by glorious inch.

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