Page 59 of The Ruthless and the Strong

I smiled and nodded. “Yeah. At my mom’s house.”

“Oh, okay. Do you want to join us?”

I tried and failed to keep the grimace from my face. “And be the third wheel to your obvious date night? No, thanks.”

Mason snorted and Olivia patted his chest. “Oh, we don’t mind.”

“But I think I will when you guys start making out on the couch like teenagers.”

Mason laughed then, and Olivia blushed. I joined him. “We wouldn’t kiss in front of you.”

I grinned at her. “Thank you, but I think I’m going to bed early. Enjoy your night, and have fun.”

I wiggled my eyebrows and she let out a small huff. She rolled her eyes at me, but her smile widened a bit, and her eyes looked lighter, so I called that a win.

I left them to it, and walked up the stairs with Hunter in my arms. I quickly tucked him in bed, offered a goodnight kiss on his forehead, and walked out to my room.

I clicked on the lamp and sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at my phone.

I shouldn’t even entertain the idea of calling or texting Max. He was ignoring me, and I didn’t want to be one of those people who begged for love. I didn’t want to beg Max to love me.

How bad was that?

That I knew I should forget about him and try to focus and put my life back on track, yet I just couldn’t do it. I didn’t know how.

My phone pinged in my hand, grabbing my attention. My heart raced when I found a text message from Sam. We hadn’t had any contact with each other since I’d moved back home to Chicago.

I opened it, frowning when I found a picture of Sam and another woman. Though the picture was an up-close shot of their faces side by side, I could see a part of their shoulders, which were bare. It didn’t look like they were wearing any shirts in the shot, and Sam had this glazed look in his eyes that I recognized as his drunk look.

Did he just send me a drunken picture of him and his one-night stand?

“What the hell?” I muttered to myself.

Before I could think anymore, my phone rang in my hands. Sam was calling. A part of me almost didn’t want to pick up. But what if he was in trouble and he needed my help to call someone?

I didn’t know.

I answered the phone. “Hello?”

There was nothing but silence for a small length of time, and for a second, I thought the call didn’t go through, but then Sam spoke, sounding way too chirpy. “Lizzie! You picked up. I didn’t think you would.”

“Why wouldn’t I have picked up?” I asked him. “Sam, how drunk are you?”

He chose to answer by laughing loudly through the line. I would take that as very drunk.

“Are you concerned about me, sweetheart?”

“Of course I’m concerned about you. Do you need me to call someone to pick you up? Where are you?”

He laughed even more. I winced and pulled the phone away a bit. Sam had always been a sloppy drunk, always doing things that he would regret later, and I had a feeling he would regret this phone call in the morning. It was just as well, since he didn’t get drunk very often, having very little tolerance for alcohol.

“I’m at home,” he said, letting out a small sigh. “Can you guess what I am doing at home?”

Based on the picture he just sent me, I really didn’t want to guess. “Why don’t we talk tomorrow? Since you’re at home and not in any real trouble, I’m going to let you go, okay?”

“You’re a real bitch, you know that?”

I closed my eyes, warding off the pain. Yes, I was. I’d known our marriage was a mistake, but I still went along with it, and I ended up hurting a good man. I knew all that.

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