Page 83 of Promiscuous Lies

“They will choose me over you,” I insist.

“Oh no, sweetheart. My parents will be the ones fighting for him. I don’t have time for a full-time kid.” He winks and then turns, heading back to his bike.

His parents enabled his bad behavior. His father was a banker who made many good investments, enough that he can now live off them for the rest of his life. His mother is a housewife who idolizes her son, even if he is the devil himself.

“Bobbi,” I call after him. He turns around to face me. And there are so many things I want to say to him, but I bite my tongue. Lifting my hand, I flip him off. “Fuck you, you fucking loser. Take me to court. I dare you. With the amount of shit I have on you, no judge in their right mind would leave you out on the streets, let alone give you custody of a child.” That’s all it takes for him to stalk back up and slap me across my face. It stings, but I internally smile. “And now I have you on video,” I add smugly. He looks around, trying to spot the cameras. I’m even more grateful now for the cameras Dutton installed.

His hand shoots out to wrap around my throat, gripping it tight. “You think you’re so smart.”

I struggle to speak from how tightly he’s constricting my airway. “At least smarter than you,” I manage to wheeze, tasting my own blood.

He releases me and storms off. I stand there, making sure he gets on his bike, and then I run to my house, unlock the door, grab my bat, and relock the door. Peeking through the blinds, I hear his bike rumble to life before I see him drive off. And know I won’t be getting any sleep tonight at all. I run to Bentley’s room, where I find him already asleep, and quickly start throwing essentials into a bag.

But then I pause, my face throbbing.

Every part of me is screaming at me to run.

But he’ll only keep chasing.

I’ll never get rid of him unless I deal with him now. But the thought of him threatening to sue for custody or even being anywhere near Bentley…

I know I wanted to give Bentley the option to know his father, but do I really want him to be associated with a man who, without thought, would throw a woman down the stairs and hit his mother?

I sag as I sit against the wall and stare at my sleeping son, trying to ignore the tears streaming down my face. Because I’m fucking furious, I’ve given him this power over me.

I don’t want to run anymore.

CHAPTER 42

Dutton

“She said she didn’t want to marry me,” I grumble to Eli through the phone.

Eli whistles, and I can tell he’s trying not to laugh. “Well, you’re an idiot for saying the reason you wanted to marry her was because your father suggested it.”

I’m exasperated as I walk into my office at Pearl and close the door behind me. “Yeah, well, it sure as hell worked for you somehow.”

He sounds smug as he says, “Yes, but I had something to blackmail Jewel with until she fell irrevocably in love with me.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re the last person I should be asking advice from.”

“It’s a big step for you, though. Are you sure this is what you want?” I can imagine him sitting in his office at Lucy’s, raising a drink to his lips.

I sigh. I’ve thought about this a lot over the last few days. I don’t go into detail about thinking I’ll be a bad husband or father. I mean, shit, if Eli is husband material, then surely, I am too. So I settle for, “I want Posie. And her son doesn’t seem to hate me, so I’d like to try to be…” I can’t finish the sentence.

Eli does it for me. “His father?”

What if Posie doesn’t even want me? What if I properly convey all of this to her, and she still doesn’t want anything more than sex? Fuck. When did I turn into this insecure creature?

“Something like that. Look, I’ve been staking out her place every night. If this deadbeat asshole of an ex comes back and threatens her in any way, I can’t promise I won’t kill him.”

I turn on my laptop and then pull up the feed from her home security system. I see her car is in the driveway. I stare at the screen as Eli continues speaking, noticing a motorcycle parked at the curb in front of her house. My eyebrows furrow. I don’t hear what Eli says as I spot another bike parked farther up the street.

“Hello, are you listening to me?” Eli says.

“There are two bikes in front of her house.”

“What?” I hear a noise, so I assume it’s him forcefully pushing back his chair and standing.

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