Page 32 of To Build a Home
I turn the shower on, not even sure how to have this conversation that I know is unavoidable. If I don’t tell her what happened, then I know her brothers will. It needs to come from me, and when she asks why, I know I need to explain about last night as well.
Will she be upset? Will she hate me?
But as I stare at my reflection in the mirror, I realize I don’t regret my decision to punch him, though. No matter the cost, I will always protect the two of them—always.
Chapter 17
Payton
What the hell just happened? Are we living in some sort of upside-down world? Had I not been so confused, I may have just followed him up the stairs and demanded he talk to me.
I’ve known Rhyland just about my entire life, yet I’ve never seen him like that. Waves of rage emanated from him, yet I wasn’t scared. I know he won’t hurt me, and he would never hurt Gabby.
Something clearly happened. There was blood on his jacket, and I’m about ninety-nine percent sure that it wasn’t animal blood. I’ve worked at Tilley’s long enough to know Rhy loves his chef’s whites clean and crisp. Plus, I had glanced at his knuckles, which were split and bloody, when I crouched down in front of him.
I don’t know if he will actually share what is going on, but I know someone who will. My brothers both should have been at Tilley’s tonight, so they have to have an idea what’s going on.
A thought hits me that makes my stomach drop. What if he had hit one of them? No, he wouldn’t, would he?
I push that idea to the back of my mind as I find my phone on the floor in front of the spot on the couch, where I was sitting when Rhy had slammed the door. It scared the shit out of me, and I’m thankful I’d just dropped my phone and hadn’t thrown it.
The door slam was the first clue that something was wrong. Since Gabby and I moved in here, he’s always been calm, caring, and respectable, even being quiet as a mouse in his own place, not wanting to disturb Gabby.
I pull up Archer’s contact and press Send. Ollie may be Rhyland’s best friend, but right now, I need someone levelheaded to talk to. It only rings once when the doorbell rings. I hang up, hoping that maybe that’s Ollie or Archer coming to fill me the hell in.
No, I’m pretty sure Ollie has a key to this place, but both would knownotto ring the doorbell this late. Either would have texted to alert if they were coming over. But maybe whoever is on the other side of the door will have some answers.Oh my God, what if it’s the police on the other side of the door?
The doorbell rings again, and this time, I’m not curious who it is—I’m pissed. Who the fuck rings the doorbell at this hour?
As I grab the doorknob and twist, I know the first thing I’ll say is to give this motherfucker a piece of my mind. But as I open the door, all concept of words and really anything slips from my brain. The door swings open to reveal the last person I ever expected to see on the other side—Joel Taylor.
I blink at him, I’m sure looking like a damn deer in headlights. That’s exactly how I feel, though—the moment just beforeimpact. I’m the defenseless deer, and he is the unsuspecting driver about to change my world. He will either nearly miss me or hit me straight-on.
“Well, hey, beautiful.” Just hearing his words and that phrase, which was the first thing heeversaid to me, snaps me out of it.
“Joel? What the ever-loving fuck are you doing here?” I hiss.
“Is that any way to greet your hubby?” The nice-guy facade was clearly a thing of the past. He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms and ankles, looking the ever-smug bastard.
“Ex,” I shout back, “or did you forget about that part?”
I don’t want to make a scene on the front step, but I also refuse to invite him inside either. Searching behind him, I spot his black sports car—something I once found so sexy but realized it was just his way of throwing around his money, or, well, his family’s money. But what has me raging is that I can see the silhouette ofher.He’s not only here, but he brought her? What the actual fuck?
The sooner I can figure out why, the sooner I can get them out of here—especially because I don’t know how long Rhy will be upstairs. I don’t know what set him off, but the last thing we need to do is add fuel to the fire. How the hell did he even find out where I live?
“Joel, what the fuck are you doing here?”
“Can’t I want to come see my daughter?” A laugh that I don’t even recognize slips past my lips.
“Now you care? Now you want to give a damn? How about when I was in labor with her? No, you didn’t even bother rescheduling your beach vacation.”
I had called Joel when I began serious contractions, and he hadn’t answered. By the time he had finally called me back after my fifth or sixth call to him, I learned he had taken Adrienne on a four-day “baby moon” to Cancun. A fucking baby moon withhismistress? His response to me was that the baby would still be here when they got back.
Something catches Joel’s attention behind me, and he stands up. His spine goes rigid as hell.
“Oh, hell no. What the fuck?”
Huh?I turn to look over what has him freaking out like this and find Rhyland coming down the stairs in gray joggers and a black T-shirt. His jaw is just as taut as when he arrived home, if not more, and his cheeks are as red as a tomato.What the hell is going on?
