Page 66 of Elijah
“Okay.” Sam saluted me and made his way back to the truck.
As he reached it, I heard his phone buzz with a text. He pulled it from his pocket and looked down at it and then looked up at me.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing. It’s fine.” He shook his head and turned his concentration back to the boxes in the back of my truck.
I walked over to him. “Go on, tell me.”
He sighed heavily and handed me the mobile. A text showed on the screen from an old workmate of his, Maxwell. As I read it, I felt my stomach lurch and a small quiver started in my hand which was holding the phone.
Maxwell: Just looking at your bros ex-wife! I’m sitting in The Miller and she’s in here with her friend having lunch. Fuck she’s hot. I’m going to go over to work my charm. Will keep you posted lol
I knew it wasn’t my business any longer, but I wanted to rush around to the pub and smash Maxwell’s face in. He was a fucking player who treated women like crap and wasn’t even deserving of the shit on the bottom of my shoes, never mind Amy’s. I knew of at least two kids he had that he never saw, and his last girlfriend, whom he lived with, he’d dumped by fucking text when he moved in with someone else.
“You better fucking put him straight,” I growled, practically throwing the phone at Sam. “He goes anywhere near her and I’ll fucking end him.”
Sam raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly. “Okay then, and do you want your new live-in girlfriend to know that too?”
“What the fuck does that mean?” I reached for a box, anger making my hands shake so much that I almost dropped it.
Sam put out a hand to stop it and pushed it back onto the bed of my truck.
“It means, calm the fuck down or Mia will want to know what your problem is. Telling her you’re fucking raging with jealousy over your ex-wife is not a good start to domestic fucking bliss,” he hissed.
My gaze shot to the open front door of my house, but there was no sign of Mia.
“I’m not jealous, I just don’t want Maxwell Tanner anywhere near her. He’s a prick and a fucking man whore, who has no idea how to treat women. Amy doesn’t need a fucking knob like him in her life.”
“And don’t you think Amy would have more sense than to go there? She was around when he and I knocked about together, she knows what a dick he is, so give her some credit.”
I took in a deep breath and looked up to the pale blue sky. There wasn’t a cloud around, yet all I could see was greyness as a gentle breeze blew against my face, soothing the red-hot anger I was feeling. An anger that I had no right to feel.
“Sorry,” I said, finally looking at my brother. “He treats women like shit and I can’t stand him.”
Sam rolled his eyes and was just about to grab a box, when his phone buzzed again. He pulled it out and read the text, before grinning and passing it to me.
Maxwell:Fucking crashed and burned. Did your bro split with her because she’s a lesbian? Rude bitch asked me if I’d got rid of my knob rot. Half the fucking pub heard.
I breathed out a sigh of relief and started to laugh.
“Typical Amy,” I muttered, giving Sam his phone back.
“Yeah,” he replied. “Told you to trust her.”
“I suppose I should have. She’s not stupid.” The ache between my eyes thudded a little harder. “Just the thought of him and how he’d treat her.”
“Yeah well, it’s not happening, so stop stressing about it. Anyway,” Sam said, hauling the box further into his arms. “Ask yourself this; would you have felt the same if it’d been Mia he was coming on to?”
I didn’t respond but narrowed my eyes at him.
“Yep, thought so.”
With that he walked away toward the garage, leaving me wondering what my answer would be.
