Page 3 of Volatile

“I’m not sending you a damn bill, Jacque. I’ll take care of it.”

She gave him another ear-piercing kiss before letting him breathe again. “You know, Jon, this could be good for you too. Maybe get you out of that slump.”

He stood, rolled down his sleeves, and tossed back a few ice chips. He knew very well what she was insinuating: by putting his energy into helping a woman similar to Julia, he could, in turn, heal himself. Nice try but it was fucking bullshit. He didn’t need healing. Time would cure everything. Or shock treatments. After eight long fucking months, every single inch of her was still etched in his brain, and no amount of vices would wipe the slate clean. Didn’t mean he’d stop trying, though.

“Fortunately, I’m not in a slump. Now, unless you need my assistance tonight, I’ll be heading out.” There was a bottle of something at home beckoning him.

“Nope, it’s all covered. We’ll be in touch.” She grasped his face, and with her ridiculously high heels, she just about squared him right in the eyes. “Thank you, sweetie.”

“You’re welcome, Jacque.”

She flashed him a smile before turning around and teetering out of the room. He watched her leave as he turned over their conversation.

What the hell did he just agree to?

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