Page 80 of Designed for Disaster

“What the absolute fuck is going on?” I snapped, watching Natasha climb out of a car I didn’t even know she owned, with Jimmy, who’d clearly been used as someone’s punching bag. The entire side of his face was a nasty shade of purple.

Christ! All I’d wanted was some damn peace and quiet in order to think, away from the waiting room where the guys kept giving me worried looks. But instead, I came outside to find this?

I’d been calm for about two seconds, but any measure of peace I’d found had now burned away. I had fire in my veins, charging through my body, filling me with the strength for a battle I hadn’t been expecting to fight. “What is happening here?” I demanded of Natasha, my voice rising. “What are you doing with Jimmy?”

Natasha closed the car door and turned to face me, annoyingly calm in the face of my anger. Did she really not give a single shit about what I was dealing with?

“Trent,” Jimmy said, coming around the car to stand beside Natasha. “How’s Nana Dee doing? Have the doctors said anything? Have you been in to see her? I got here as soon as I could figure out a?—”

“Why does his face look like that?” I roared, my pulse throbbing in my forehead. Natasha just stood there like a statue, ignoring the massive fucking elephant in the room.

Natasha straightened and crossed her arms. “Why don’t you ask him? I know it’s not your forte?—”

“That’syour response?” I snapped. “You show up here with my brother looking like he’s gone nine rounds with Ali, and that’s all you have to say?” Jimmy’s face fell. I knew I was scaring him, but the last thing I was going to stand for was an ex of mine bullying my little brother. “Have you not already done enough damage to this family today?”

Jimmy reached up, touching the side of his face, wincing as he did. “No, Trent, you don’t understa?—”

I stepped forward, taking his face in my hands, getting a good look at the bruising. “You have a fucking black eye. Come on, we’re going to get this looked at.”

Jimmy flinched out of my grip. “It doesn’t even hurt,” he insisted. I knew he was lying, putting on a show to look tough.

I glared at Natasha. “If I find out you had anything to do with this, I swear to god I’m going to?—”

“What?” Natasha challenged, all fire as her hands fell to her hips, those curls of hers spiraling wildly around her face. She was maddening.

“She had nothing to do with?—”

“Go inside!” I snapped at Jimmy. “Have a doctor take a look at you.”

“I don’t need a doctor. Listen to me?—”

“Go!”

Jimmy refused to move. Anger and stress and worry made for a toxic combination, filling me up with the kind of rage that made me feel out of control. “Are you happy?” I growled at Natasha. “Does this give you some kind of thrill, torturing this family?”

“You’re really something, Trent Saunders,” she said. “You know that? Just love hearing yourself speak.”

“I’msomething?” She was the one who’d almost cost me my job this morning, and here she was playing the victim, glaring at me likeIwas completely out of line.

“Yes!” she cried, sounding exasperated. “Now are you done throwing around accusations?”

“I’m not throwing around anything. My god, Natasha, why can’t you just?—”

She stomped up to me, face turned up to look me in the eye. Any closer and I’d be able to feel the rise and fall of her chest against mine. My eyes—my damn traitorous eyes—fell to her lips. Despite all my anger, there was a part of me that wanted to grab hold of her and let the heat of my frustration bleed into a kiss that would set us both on fire. But we couldn’t have that anymore. Not after what she’d done.

“Ifyoucould just shut up for one damn second and listen to me,” she said, leveling me with a look that irritated the shit out of me. “I’d tell you that your mother reached out to me on 1stDibs.com.”

“I don’t give a fuck how she reached out to you.”

“She also told me she was worried about you,” Natasha continued. I didn’t want to hear it. “And that she didn’t know why you’d cut her off.”

“A fucking lie.”

“But I didn’t know any better!” she said. “Because you never explained things to me. All I saw was a mother desperate to reconnect with her son.”

What, so it was my fault for not getting into that whole messy backstory with her? It was none of her business. Natasha should have just accepted it when I said I didn’t speak to my parents unless absolutely necessary. Why did she have to go inserting herself where she didn’t belong?

“I did meet up with your mom at her insistence,” Natasha said. “I tried to make excuses for why you hadn’t reached out.”

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