Page 7 of Breaking Bristol

“Who took them out?”

“Me.” I swear he growled, and his grip got tighter. “Did you just growl at me?”

“Yeah, ’cause I’m pissed at you.”

I tried to tug my hand away, but he didn’t release me. “Let me go.”

Immediately, I was free, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why not?” I studied my faint scar. “It looks fine to me. Is it not fine?”

I heard a chuckle and when he dropped his arm, he was grinning. “It is fine only because whoever stitched you up did a phenomenal job.”

Okay. I needed to get away from him before I did something like trust him completely. I reached into my purse and pressed the key fob. He heard it unlock and opened my door.

I walked around him and got into my seat, and he stood there, the faraway echo of the countdown at ten.

And then he slowly crouched down. Nine.

His hand landed on my thigh. Eight.

He reached across and cupped my neck. Seven.

His thumb brushed across my pulse. Six.

He whispered my name, and I looked into his eyes, not an inkling of fear in any module in my body. “Five. Four. Three. Two. One.” He held my eyes while he lifted my hand and pressed a gentle, sensual kiss to my knuckles. “Happy New Year, Bristol.”

And then he slowly pulled his fingers away, got to his feet, closed my door, and disappeared into the night. A firework exploding made me jump in my skin, and when I went to start my car, I realized I was holding on to a piece of paper he’d slyly tucked into my hand. I didn’t need to look at it to know that his number was written on it.

I wanted to let myself experience how it made me feel seen, desirable. I wished I could have allowed myself to enjoy the moment of warmth and the thrill of getting attention from a handsome, smart, and kind man. It had been so long since that was even an option that I forgot how precious those rare flashes of time were.

I shivered despite myself. The excitement that came from intimacy was something I had once treasured—the hot desire from a sexual attraction, the buzzing of anticipation, the ecstasy of an orgasm taking over my entire body. I loved sex, and I missed it so much. But that wasn’t for me anymore. Not only did I have to protect myself, but I had to protect any man who dared be with me. Even though Shane hadn’t found me, I knew he wouldn’t stop until he did. Being with me was dangerous, and I refused to risk someone else’s life, even if it meant I’d be alone for the rest of mine.

CHAPTER 3

Matthew

An immediate sense of comfort hit me in the chest as I pulled up my aunt and uncle’s driveway. I hadn’t seen my parents since before I left Germany. My mother’s parents were from Denmark, and they had both fallen ill, so my mom and dad moved to be with them about four years ago.

That was why I took the government job in Germany, so I could be closer to them for at least a little while. The original plan was for Lauren to come with me, but at the last minute, her grandmother had fallen and needed a hip replacement.

I suggested Lauren stay back to help with the rehab, and with how easily she agreed, I should have known she wanted me gone. Then my wife came up with every excuse in the book to stay five thousand miles away from me for an entire year. Everything from her having to work, her grandma needing more help, the pipes leaking, to getting a flat tire on the way to the airport and missing her flight.

Deep down, I knew. I should have contacted my lawyer then, but stupidly, I wanted to see her face-to-face before I ended it. Because if I’d have done that, then my hands wouldn’t have a man’s blood on them. A daughter wouldn’t be without a father. And maybe I’d get a full night’s sleep for the first time in over a year and a half…

My entire body was sore and stiff from the ten-hour flight from Germany, but knowing I was about to be home made the aches and pains nearly unnoticeable. I had been overseas for a year for a contract I took to work at a military hospital. I loved it, but I was glad to be home. I thanked the driver and grabbed my backpack and the bouquet.

I was excited to surprise my wife, hoping all my reservations and doubts were wrong. I rushed toward the two-story house we’d built that Lauren designed every inch of. As I made my way to the porch with flowers in hand, I noticed the curtains were all closed, which I found odd. It wasn’t that late, and Lauren usually opened the windows at night to get fresh air into the house, so I was worried she wasn’t even home.

I pressed the code on the electronic lock, and the light turned green as I heard the deadbolt disengage. Quietly closing the door, I listened. Hearing noise coming from our bedroom, I began walking in that direction.

My shoes were soft on the carpeted steps, and when I got to the top, my excitement melted away and a metal coat of enraged armor locked tight around my skin.

A man’s grunting floated out of my bedroom while my wife moaned. Damn, but being right sucked. As much as I wanted to lose my mind on her, I was already prepared for this, so I was able to keep my shit together… for a moment. But while I stood in the doorway and watched as she sat astride him and rode his cock, fury unlike anything I’d ever felt seeped in, making my vision red from the ferocity of the blood pounding through my veins.

They were so into it that neither of them saw me, and if it wasn’t for the fact that I had suddenly become nauseous, I’d have waited until they noticed just to hopefully add to the mortification of getting caught.

But I couldn’t watch another second. “Honey, I’m home.”

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