Page 95 of The Love You Fight For
Jealousy and hurt swirl in my chest, threatening to suffocate my good sense.
Ashton presses his hand to her lower back, grazing his fingers over the curve of her ass. He lowers his face to her ear. He says something. Sam says something back, placing one of her handslightly on his chest while the other holds a small black leather clutch purse.
He says something else, and she shakes her head, and then in slow motion, he brings his hand to her hair and sweeps it over her shoulder. I see the necklace seconds before he leans down and presses a kiss to her neck.
Every self-preservation instinct inside of me is calling for me to turn around and leave. To cut my losses before I find myself made into a complete fool. To avoid at all costs falling into another Sable relationship.
But instead, I zero in on the rigidity of her spine and the death grip she has on her clutch, and my feet move me forward until I am pulling Ashton away from her.
Sam gasps as Ashton grunts and flails his arms at me, but I’ve already put myself between him and Sam.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he barks at the same time Sam’s hands dig into the flesh at my sides. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
He takes two steps toward me, and I clench my fists.
“Back up,” I command. “Don’t come any closer.”
I keep my voice calm, but there’s no mistaking the lingering threat, and he takes a reluctant step back. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smirking.
“Chris,” Sam says, her voice shocked. “What are you doing here?”
I don’t answer her. I keep my eyes on Ashton. He’s blustering, his face bright red, and he flicks his eyes from me to Sam and back.
“I’m calling the cops,” he says.
“No,” Sam shouts from behind me. “Don’t call the cops. I’ll handle this.”
She puts her hand on my arm and steps up to my side, but I put my arm in front of her so she can’t step any farther away. I hear the driver’s side door open and shut as a man in a suit rushes up to Ashton, and two security guards come running from the building.
“It’s fine,” Sam says sternly, holding a hand up to the securityguards, then nodding at the driver. “It’s under control. You can go, Ashton.”
Ashton’s mouth opens in protest.
“You don’t get to dismiss me, Samantha,” he snarls.
He takes another step forward, so I do as well, and he freezes. I don’t take my eyes off him, even though I’m very aware that the security guards have their arms raised and pointed in my direction, and I’m hoping they’re holding tasers and not guns.
“Ashton. I told you already that you will not accompany me upstairs.”
Sam’s voice is clipped and firm, and a bloom of hope replaces some of the doom I’d been feeling just moments earlier.
“For fuck’s sake, put those down or I will have you fired for attacking my friend,” she commands, and the security guards obey immediately.
I throw a grin in their direction before looking back at the pretentious twat in front of me.
“Samantha, what would your father sa?—”
“I will worry about my father, Ashton. You worry about yourself. Please leave before I have you removed.”
Ashton’s jaw drops, and the driver of the car puts his hand on Ashton’s arm.
“Perhaps we should go, sir,” the driver says.
Ashton darts his eyes between me and Sam.
“Go, Ashton. I will see you tomorrow. Go home.”
When he drags furious eyes from Sam to me, I allow myself one small smirk, and I have to keep from laughing when his nostrils flare and his face turns redder. He looks back at Sam.
