Page 11 of Take My Name
“This ain’t funny.” I bang my fist some more. It’s a good thing I have several copies in case he tosses them. “You can’t force me to stay married to you!”
I should’ve taken care of this after the third time he sent them back. It’s a process to do a default divorce, but I kept hoping he’d come to his senses and make it easy on me.
It appears I was wrong.
“C’mon, let’s talk like adults!” I shout louder.
Then he blasts music and turns off the lights.
“Real fuckin’ mature,” I mutter.
There’s gotta be a way into this house.
Although it’s nearly pitch-black out, with no motion lights, which is stupid, I use my phone flashlight to walk around the deck to check for a back door, but it’s locked. Not wanting to give up after what it took for me to find his house in the first place, I go down the steps and find a patio door that leads to the lower level.
And it’s unlocked.
Bingo.
Slowly, I slide it open and step into darkness. My flashlight leads me toward a staircase and I tiptoe up the stairs as quietly as my heels allow. Once I get to the top, I walk into what looks like a mudroom. Jackets and hats hang on the wall, with dirty work boots on the floor.
I hold my breath, making my way into a hallway and searching for a light switch. The music blasting has me covering one side of my face while I hold my phone with the other hand.
“Whaddya think you’re doin’?”
The deep, rough voice in my other ear causes me to jump out of my skin. “Jesus Christ, Warren!”
Spinning around too fast, I lose my balance when my heeltwists and has me reaching out for support. Warren grabs me before I can fall to my knees and holds me up.
“Shit,” he mutters. “You alright?”
“Can you turn that down?” I shout once I’m standing confidently.
He yanks out his phone and presses an app on the screen to shut it off, then the only sound left is the blood rushing to my ears.
With a few more taps, the hall lights come on.
He’s only six inches from my face and it’s the closest we’ve been in years, yet there’s a pang of familiarness that seeps into my heart.
“I think you woke up my chickens,” he finally says once the silence lingers too long.
“Your music did that,” I retort, hearing them make noise from the coop.
He huffs, but I catch his gaze dropping to my mouth before he asks, “What’re you doin’ here, Maze?”
“It’sMaisie. And we need to talk.”
He scoffs at me for correcting him. Maze was a special nickname only he called me and hearing him say it like we’re twenty-one again doesn’t feel right.
“And what?” He stuffs his hands in his pockets, looking smug. “You lost my number?”
“Would you have picked up if I’d called?” I cross my arms over my chest, matching his attitude.
He lifts a shoulder, keeping his gaze on mine. “Depends.”
I blow out an exasperated breath. “Look, I don’t wanna fight with you. But this”—I wave a finger between our bodies that somehow feel closer than a moment ago—“is long over. Why drag it out longer than it already has?”
“Because we promisedforever, and unlike some people, I take my vows seriously.”
