“You’ve been stalking me and Blake.” My voice is barely audible as I process this new information.
“You’re married. You’ve embarrassed our daughter, me, and yourself.” He steps up close, the red coloring his face accentuating his blond eyebrows. “Now walk your ass into your room and pack a fucking bag. I’m not staying the night in this shit hole.”
My heart jumps in panic, but his insulting our home forces it to slow. I worked my ass off to get where I am. We’ve made this place our home and built a life for ourselves. He can do whatever he wants—call me names, belittle me, take my body. I’ve lived through his hell. But I won’t give up the life we have here. When I left Seattle, I vowed I’d never take another order from him again. It’s time I made good on that promise.
I think about the story Blake told me about the morning he decided he was finished living under the heavy hand of his father. His tattoo flashes in my mind’s eye.
Si vis pacem, para bellum.
If you want peace, prepare for war.
With that, an idea forms. If I piss him off enough, anger him beyond his control, I’ll stir up the war. I’ll drive him to the point of violence. The police will come, restraining orders will be filed, and ultimately divorce papers will be signed. I can do this. It sounds crazy, but I’m thinking crazy might be our only way out.
I see the guys at the training center take punches all the time. Sure, it’ll hurt, but I’ve got purpose on my side. Fight for the life I made here. For the life that Axelle’s made. And piling hope upon hope, for any future I have with Blake.
This is going to work. It has to.
I suck in a deep breath and square my shoulders. “Fuck you, Stew.”
His eyes widen, the brown piercing me and not letting go. “What did you say?” His nostrils flare with every breath, and his chest swells.
“You heard me. I want you to leave.” Excitement shakes my voice, but I’m hoping he thinks it’s fear.
“Have you lost your mind, talking to me like that?”
A loud knock sounds at the door just a couple yards from where we’re standing.
“Layla? It’s me, Raven.”
Stewart’s eyes dart from me to the door.
“I wanted to see how the outfit worked out,” she says through the door.
More knocking.
“I know you’re in there, girl.” Her voice is light and cheery. Like she really is here to simply stop by and chat.
I know better.
“Coming.” I move to let her in, and Stewart grabs my arm. He mouths, “Get rid of her,” and for the first time I sense his worry. He’s not in control here. Not in my house.
“Hey, come on in.” I swing open the door wide so she can see Stewart.
Her eyebrows hit her hairline. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you had company.”
I try not to laugh at her lie. “Yeah, you’re not the only one. He dropped in unexpectedly. This is my ex. The one I told you all about. Stewart, this is my girlfriend Raven.”
After an awkward handshake and a very obvious evil eye from Stewart, we stand in uncomfortable silence.
“Axelle out for the night?” Raven asks, her face giving away that she knows exactly what’s going on.
Who told her? Blake? Maybe he saw through my act earlier and sent Raven to help. No way. A man like Blake would never send a woman to do his dirty work. My heart sinks into my stomach. He’s not coming to save me, not this time.
“No, she’s home. She cancelled with Killian after her dad crashed our evening.” I notice Raven is in jeans and a t-shirt with tennis shoes. “What about you? Where’s Jonah? No plans for Valentine’s Day?”
“Oh, nah.” She waves me off, but her eyes dart to the window in a way that’s meant for only my eyes to see. “He’s not much for celebrating Valentine’s Day.”
“Too bad. You want to hang out for a while? Axelle and I were going to watch Sleepless in Seattle and order a pizza, you’re welcome—”
“No, not tonight.” Stewart puts on his best cheesy sales face. The one he masks himself with when he’s about to do something unforgivable. “Sorry, Raven. I’m taking the girls to the Bellagio for a couple nights.” He puts his hand on her back and directs her to the door. “Appreciate you stopping by, but we need some family time.”
Raven slides from his hold. “Oh, well, before I go, can I grab those shoes I let you borrow?” Her eyes are begging… or warning? She’s stalling. But for what?
“Sure, let me go grab them.” I move to the mouth of the hallway.
“I’ll come with you. I don’t think you can carry all five boxes by yourself.”
Stewart groans, but doesn’t prevent her from following me. “Make it quick. We need to go.”
We scurry back to Axelle’s room, storm in, shut the door, and Raven locks it. Axelle jumps from the bed, eyes wide, probably startled by our entrance.
“Okay, girls. We don’t have much time. Jonah’s outside with Killian. We’re going to walk out of here together. If we don’t get out of here within five minutes, Killian and Jonah are coming in. And I can promise you, nothing good is going to come of that.”
“No, I don’t want you guys getting involved.” I whisper-yell. “Stewart doesn’t fight fair. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s got a weapon.” Holding her shoulders so that she listens to me, I shake my head. “If anything happened to you or the baby, I’d never forgive myself. I sent Blake away for the same reason. This is my fight. Not yours.”
Strangely, considering the circumstance, she smiles. Not an uncomfortable “oh, that’s sweet of you” smile, but a real, happy, all-teeth-and-shining-eyes smile. “I knew it. He said no, but I knew it.”
“Who said what?”
“Blake.”
My stomach flips and trembles, along with my lower lip. “You talked to him? Wait, did he send you?”
Her happy expression falls. “Yes, I talked to him. But no, he didn’t send us. Killian did.”
Her words say everything I need to know. Blake’s giving up on us. He didn’t see through to the heart of me. He bought the lie.
“When did you talk to him? Is he okay?” My words are barely a whisper, and sadness burns behind my nose and eyes.
“We don’t have time. Just grab what you need; only what you need.”
“Raven. Please.”
She exhales and gives me a sad smile. “No, Layla. He’s not okay. Not even close.”
My heart convulses violently in my chest. I suck back my urge to fall to the floor and bawl. “Right. Well, I can’t blame him. I was awful.”
“Where the fuck is my wife, asshole?” The roar of an angry male thunders through the wall.
Raven’s eyes jerk in its direction then move back to us. “Looks like our time’s up.”
I grab Axelle’s hand, and we follow Raven out of the room and down the hall. In the kitchen, Jonah and Stewart are less than a foot apart. They’re staring each other down, shoulders tense, hands fisted.
“Hey, baby. We’re all set,” Raven says to her husband, not even a slight quiver in her voice.
“Take the girls down to the truck. Killer’s waiting.” Jonah gives his order, and I notice he uses Killian’s nickname. Smart move. For all Stewart knows, there could be another UFL heavyweight waiting downstairs.
Hand in hand, we move across the kitchen toward the door. My head is pounding, and my ears are hypersensitive, so I hear him move before I feel it. But it’s too late.
Stewart yanks Axelle and me back and wraps us tight in his arms. “They aren’t going anywhere.”
Jonah advances, his head down, eyebrows low, radiating fury. Stewart’s grip gets tighter. Axelle cries out, but he doesn’t let go.
Jonah moves another step closer. If a fight starts, Axelle and I will be in the middle.