Page 159 of Trust Me

The only three words that ring through my head as I stare down at her.

“We’re going to be late,” she murmurs, reminding me that we have a prior engagement this morning. Another one of her Girls on the Move volunteer events.

I nod and move away from her, grabbing my phone from the nightstand. “You should go shower. We’ll finish where we left off later.”

I don’t look back as I stride toward the living room. I turn the volume up on my phone, noticing that the bastard hasn’t hung up. I knew he wouldn’t. That pisses me off even more.

“Did you hear that?” I ask through gritted teeth.

“K-Kyle? Is that …”

“That's exactly what you think it is. The one and only time you’ve ever heard my wife make those sounds. Or ever will.”

“I-I—”

“Shut the fuck up. You’ve lied on my wife, thinking you could use her past to fucking bond with me? You’re a selfish, spoiled, lacking talent son of a bitch who only gets by on the name of his parents. Riley saw you for the chump you are a mile away. Live with it. The only reason I’m letting you continue to breathe is because you didn’t have something to do with Dean’s blackmail. He used you, too.

“You’re not angry at Riley for stealing from you. You’re pissed and embarrassed that she did it without ever letting you touch her. I know my wife never fucked you. This is your final warning. If you ever mention my wife’s name out of your pathetic mouth again, let alone imply that you had anything physical with her, I’ll demolish you. Trust me when I say I will take pleasure in ending you. Don’t ever fucking call me again.”

I end the call and tighten my hands into fists with the desire to punch Brendan fucking Chastain in his face. But undoubtedly that’ll be the last time I hear anything from him.

I turn around to head back to the bedroom, but the sight of Riley stops me. She’s standing there, frozen, dressed in one of my white, button-down shirts. Usually, the sight of her in my clothes makes me rock hard.

But it’s the tears in her eyes that steal my breath.

“D-Did you … have him on the phone?” Her voice is clogged with unshed tears.

“Riley …”

I take a step in her direction, but she holds up her hands.

“Don’t come near me.”

That’s when the first rip in my heart starts.

“Why would you do something like that?”

I shake my head. “It’s no big deal,” I say, but it sounds like bullshit even as it comes out of my mouth.

She scoffs. The laugh she lets free is brittle. “Not a big deal. Just like I’m not a big deal to you either, right?”

“What? Of course you are. You’re my fucking wife,” I say, my voice growing louder.

“Right. For as long as you need to secure your role as the COO. To get whatever you need.” She juts her hand at the phone in my hand. “And to make Brendan look like a … what did you call him? Right. Achump.”

The first tear falls from her eye.

“Don’t come near me!” she screams when I attempt to approach.

I hate the look on her face. As if I’m the last person in this world that she wants anywhere near her.

“You used me. Just like …” She trails off with a shake of her head. “That’s all I ever was to you.”

“What are you saying? You’re my damn wife.”

“You keep saying that like it means any damn thing!” she yells.

“It means everything. I wouldn’t give anyone else my last fucking name.”

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