Page 72 of Volatile

image

image

image

Chapter Nineteen

image

Jon made a quick stophome to stuff a wad of cash in an envelope before heading to Jacque’s. Her party couldn’t have been better timing. He needed this, needed to get back into his old life, and what better way to start than with Lizbeth? Things with Ivy were dead. Their story over in one swift sentence: She’d never accept him.

The End.

He parked at the curb and went up the front path, eager to feel a woman’s pleasure. To know that whatever he gave was gratefully accepted and appreciated. He wouldn’t get that from Ivy, and he couldn’t be what she wanted.I don’t do flowers. Yeah, wasn’t that the fucking truth. That fucked-up day from sixteen years ago flashed back, and he could almost feel the thorns stabbing into his hand again.

I’m flying high, long-stemmed red roses tight in my grip. Is it love? Not quite but close. The feelings are real. I want nothing more than to spend the day with the woman who put this idiotic smile on my face. I let myself into her place with my key. She gave me one; that has to mean something, right? I’m feeling fucking great, a large bankroll burning a hole in my pocket from a renovation I just completed on Mrs. Falstein’s house. My head is teeming with thoughts on how she’ll look when I give her the flowers and tell her where we’re going to dinner tonight. I take a few more steps inside and feel this intense pain like I’m being eviscerated. I shake my head. No, it’s not real. I’m just seeing things. But why is my hand throbbing? Why are my eyes messing with me, showing my girlfriend bent over the couch? Her moans fill the air. My ears must be fucking with me too. My hand is on fire. I’m a fucking shell, my guts are ripped out, and I’m bleeding all over the fucking floor. If none of this is real, why is Ian fucking the shit out of my girlfriend? My brain would never imagine that. My throat constricts and everything goes to hell. I lose control of my life, and it’s the most fucked-up feeling in the world. Fuck my best friend. He doesn’t give a shit about her, not like I do. Fuck relationships. Fuck these roses and their fucking blood-thirsty thorns causing me pain. Fuck it all.

Halfway up the walk, the door swung open and Cherise stepped out, snapping him out of the past and back where he belonged. That was a long time ago. He wasn’t that powerless sap anymore, thank fuck.

She smiled wide. “Jon!”

“Hey, sexy. Perfect, just the one I wanted to see.” He pulled her in for a hug, kissing her on the cheek.

“What’s up?”

He removed the envelope from his pocket. “When does Ivy work next?”

“Tomorrow morning. Why?”

“You know she also worked at Rig’s?”

Cherise nodded. “Wait, worked?”

“I got her fired.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Care to tell me what’s going on?”

“It wasn’t a good place for her to be.”

“Well, I agree about that, but... fired? Not that Jacque and I haven’t had our suspicions, but what exactly is going on between the two of you?”

“Nothing.”

She crossed her arms and gave him a scolding look. “So you get the poor woman fired over ‘nothing,’ and you expect me to buy that?”

“I’m not sorry she’s out of there, and I hope to hell she doesn’t get her job back. But I do feel bad about putting her in a financial bind.” Jon handed her the money. “I want you to give this to her.” Cherise opened the envelope and her eyes widened. “It’s just a little something now to tide her over, and I’ll get you more later. Tell her it’s from you.”

“She’s not going to take this from me, Jon.”

“Well, she sure as hell isn’t going to take it from me. Say you’ve had a good year so far and it’s a bonus, I don’t know.”

“And what about when I give her more? Just another random bonus?”

He gave her a loud peck on her forehead. “I have complete confidence in you. I’m sure you’ll figure something out. Just make sure she takes it. If she has a cushion to fall back on, she’ll be less tempted to grovel for that piece of shit job.”

Cherise sighed, stuffing the cash into her purse. “Okay, when you put it that way....”

---