Page 25 of Forbidden Love

“Oh, come on, Deborah,” Linda huffed, rolling her eyes with a forced laugh, trying to keep it light but pushing harder beneath the surface. “Give your girl some information on that handsome man. What happened to you? You used to know everything about everyone in this town.”

Deb’s chest tightened. There it was—the jab, the not-so-subtle reminder of who she used to be, of the part she played in this town's constant churn of gossip and secrets. But that version of her was gone. Done were the days of knowing things that weren’t her business, done feeding fires just to feel the heat.

She looked at Linda squarely. “People change,” she said quietly, but with enough weight to let the words hang in the air. “Some of us grow up.”

That’s when the mask cracked and the real Linda slithered out.

“Listen, bitch,” she hissed, her voice low and venomous, just above a whisper—meant only for Deb and Darla, who was practically vibrating with anticipation beside her, eager for drama. “Don’t forget I know things about you. Things you don’t want making the rounds in this town. You got me?”

The threat hung in the air like the stench of something rotten. And just like that, Deb felt it—the shift, the snap of restraint. The old Deb, the one she had locked away, buried deep under self-control and second chances, stirred awake and stepped into the light with a wicked little smile.

“You want to play this game, Linda?” Deb arched a brow, her voice steady but sharp, slicing clean through the moment. “Because don’t forget—I know things too. Real things. The kind that would burn that perfect little image you cling to like your last breath.”

Linda blinked, caught off guard, just for a second.

“That’s why you’ve kept that big painted-ass mouth of yours shut about me all this time,” Deb continued, stepping forward just enough to ensure the message landed. “I’ve changed, yeah. But don’t confuse change with weakness. I may not go looking for fights anymore, but I sure as hell know how to finish them. You gotme?”

For the first time, Linda didn’t have a comeback—just a twitch of her lips and a flicker of something in her eyes that Deb knew was a warning to watch her back. They continued to stare at each other, neither of them backing down.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Brock’s voice cut through the tension, deep and calm but laced with curiosity.

Linda let out a dramatic gasp, her hand flying to her chest like she’d been shot instead of startled. “You scared me!” she cried, her voice pitching up an octave. And, of course, the theatrics didn’t stop there—she batted those ridiculous fake lashes so fast Deb half-expected one to take flight right off her face.

“Oh, you must be, ah, Brock, isn’t it?” Linda cooed, voice dripping with forced sweetness as she turned toward him, the venom from moments ago suddenly nowhere to be found.

“I am.” His reply was short and to the point.

“Well, Brock,” The way Linda said his name made Deb want to projectile vomit. “You really shouldn’t sneak up on people like that. I’m Linda, by the way. Linda Cadel. I figured I would introduce myself since Deborah is being rude.”

“While I’m being rude and you’re being Ms. Congeniality, why don’t you introduce your sidekick also.” Deb couldn’t help herself. The bitch in her had been set free and wasn’t ready to go back into hiding yet.

“You’re so funny, Deborah.” Linda laughed, sounding like a wounded hyena, but the look she shot her when she turned from Brock to Darla was anything but friendly.

Deb didn’t say a word; she just watched Linda’s performance as she introduced Brock to Darla. Her stare was flat, and her brow raised, her pulse still buzzing from their earlier confrontation. She could feel Brock’s eyes flick between the three of them, sharp and steady, taking in the tension that still crackled in the air.

Deb could practically see the wheels turning behind those cool eyes of his. He was reading the room like someone who’d walked into a minefield barefoot. Each glance a careful step.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Brock said politely, then his gaze finally landed on her—and lingered. Something flickered there. Curiosity? Concern? “If you’ll excuse us, I need to speak with Deb.”

Deb held his gaze, her eyes softening just enough to let a flicker of gratitude shine through. A small, almost imperceptible nod of thanks passed between them. At that moment, she was so close to throwing her arms around him, right there in front of God, Linda, and everyone else.

But instead, she pulled in a slow breath, even as her heart thumped against her ribs like it was trying to get out.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Linda watching Brock with narrowed eyes, her smile long gone. There was nothingsubtle about the glare she was shooting his way—it was sharp, cold, and full of poison.

Deb didn’t even have to guess what was going through her mind.How dare he dismiss me!Yeah, she knew Linda that well to know her thoughts.

Yeah… she definitely needed to warn him. Because whatever he thought he walked into, it was a hell of a lot messier. And if looks could kill, she and Brock would already be lying side by side, six feet under, while Linda planned what flowers tonotsend to their funeral.

CHAPTER 12

Brock knew that he’d walked in on something the moment he stepped up because the air was thick and sharp, like the crackle before a lightning strike.

Deb’s face said it all. Her jaw was tight, her eyes still burning from whatever had just gone down, and she looked like she was one breath away from launching herself across the counter. The woman standing before her had the smug, polished look of someone used to throwing punches with words instead of fists, and from the fire in Deb’s eyes, she’d landed one too many.

He stood there, hands loose at his sides, reading the energy like a man who knew when a room could turn explosive. Either his timing was perfect... or it was unlucky as hell.

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