Page 119 of Bae

“Don’t make yourself sick over this. I’m taking care of it. That story won’t see the light of day.”

“I’m not sure you’ll be able to stop him.”

“I’ll stop him,” I said, not an ounce of give in my voice.

She looked up at me, and I felt her worry.

I pushed her head back into my neck and hugged a little tighter. “It’s all going to be okay, Rimmel. I promise.”

I didn’t make a promise lightly. She knew this.

I felt her inhale, then slowly let it out. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because if I hadn’t… had sex with him, this wouldn’t even be an issue right now.”

I made a sound, and as much as I loved the feel of her against me, I pulled her around so she was straddling my lap and I could look directly into her eyes.

Her glasses were slightly crooked from leaning against me, so I adjusted them before addressing her words.

“I couldn’t give two shits that you slept with him,” I announced. “That story could go national—hell, it could run internationally—and I would still be the luckiest bastard in this world. I would still stop football games for you. I would still love every ugly dog and cat you drag home. I would still walk down the street holding your hand and tell everyone who asked exactly where my heart resides.” As I spoke, I pressed a palm to her chest, right over her heart. “This story coming out only upsets me because it upsets you and because it makes you relive something you shouldn’t have to ever think about again.”

“I made a bad choice,” she whispered, tears in her eyes.

“You were thirteen years old. You were achild. He was older and manipulated you. Frankly, in my eyes, that fucker raped you.”

“He didn’t—”

“You defending him?” I asked, no challenge to my words, but I did lift my eyebrow.

“No.” Her voice was forlorn.

“You’ve been through enough. I’m putting a stop to it. I can’t make the press stop reporting on us, but I’m going to make it a lot less desirable. By the time I’m finished, everybody in this business is going to know they don’t fuck with my wife, and if they do, they’re going to get a face full of me.”

“I like a face full of you,” she mused.

“This isn’t your fault,” I insisted. “It’s that bitch Missy’s.”

“I hate her,” Rim whispered.

“Yeah, you and about a million other people,” I muttered. “Don’t worry about her either. I’ll take care of it.”

Before she could tell me no, I changed the subject. “I need to ask you something. I don’t want to, but it has to be done.”

“Anything.” Her wide, brown eyes were innocent, open. Honestly, just looking at her made me even more pissed.

How anyone could take advantage of someone so good and hurt them deliberately was so beyond me.

“Can you remember anything about Kane? Anything he might have done or if he had a record… a reputation? Anything?”

Her brows furrowed together like she was really thinking about it. “I’m pretty sure they did some drugs; they definitely drank… maybe some light shoplifting.”

“Anything else?” I asked, not wanting to make her feel like I was pushing.

She frowned. “I don’t think so. I was young, and I didn’t ask any questions. When he turned his back on me after, I kinda shut down. I tried to forget.”

“Okay,” I said gently, pulling her back into me and wrapping my arms around her back. She was trembling. “Have you eaten anything yet today?”

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