Page 67 of Dearly Betrayed

“You okay?” he asks, squinting at me. “You look off.”

“Fine,” I say. I feel sick. I don’t want to lie to him, but if I tell him the truth, how’s he going to react?Sorry, hon, I wanted to destroy you when we first got married so I stole from you and copied your private documents, ha ha ha, whoops! Oh, also my brother was in on it, he-he. That will fuck everything. Fuck it so hard the war will start again.

Rian will be implicated.

Jayson will strangle me himself.

I’m so beyond screwed.

“Seriously. You look upset.”

“Just thinking about the guys left here to kill me, is all. Not a pleasant thing, you know.”

“I know.” His voice softens. “You’re safe. I promise.”

“Alright, erm, I know that. Mind if I go take a shower? I’m feeling a little eh, you know?”

“Go ahead.” He turns back to his papers. “Rian sent over profiles on each of the guys too. At least your worthless brother is thorough when it comes to fixing his mistakes.”

Normally, I’d defend Rian, but I just get out of there. I hurry upstairs, into our bedroom, slam the door, and throw myself into the bathroom. I turn on the shower, but sit on the edge of the tub, feeling like I might disintegrate into little mushy pieces.

My call was recorded. It’s somewhere in the cloud on some Costa computer waiting for them to find it. And when they do, how will Jayson react?

I have to destroy the documents.

That’s my first step.

Then maybe I can convince Jayson that it was a huge mistake, and maybe he’ll show me pity.

I close my eyes and can see him pummeling my attacker in the face, slamming his fists down over and over.

Murdering a man with his bare hands.

I have to destroy the papers then I need to get the fuck away before that’s my skull he’s smashing.

Chapter30

Jayson

Ibrush Fallon’s hair off her shoulder and she flinches. “What’s the matter?” I say quietly as I kiss her neck.

“Nothing. I’m fine.” She rolls over. It’s dark in our room. Three days since the attack, and we’ve done nothing much more than fuck and spend time together, as if making up for missed chances.

It’s been a good few days, except sometimes she seems distant—almost like she’s still afraid of me.

And I don’t understand why.

“That’s not what people say when they’re really fine.”

“In this case, I actually mean it.” She smiles and kisses me, but there’s something forced in her tone.

My alarms should be blaring right about now. I’m normally good at reading people, except my wife’s lips and her lovely, silky pussy are the ideal distractions, perfect for making me think with my dick.

“If there’s something you want to talk about—” I can imagine several things. Our relationship is progressing quickly, and she might be a little nervous about what that means. She was also a virgin only a few days ago, and now we’re fucking as if our lives depend on it, which I very much enjoy, but I can imagine why she might need a little more time to acclimate.

It’s strange, thinking this way. I’ve never cared about another person’s feelings so much before in my life. It’s like bringing her into my world’s opened up an entirely new part of me, one I didn’t think could even exist. Except here I am, lying in bed with my wife, a woman I hated not too long ago, completely obsessed with her and worried about how she’s feeling.

“Really, I’m fine. How can I prove it?”

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