Page 96 of Love is Angry

“Julian sent you,” I scoff. “That piece of shit.”

He shrugs. “A powerful and resourceful piece of shit, whose payroll I happen to enjoy. So, listen carefully, Madison. No more lovey-dovey with Rhue. Keep your distance. Your dad’s forced professional relocation was merely a knee-jerk reaction. You know Julian. You know how he can be.”

“You’re threatening me.”

“It’s an ugly word, but fine. Yes, I’m threatening you.” He sighs deeply, looking downright regretful. “But honestly, I’ll rather threaten you and scare you off. I’d hate to have to follow through later down the line, Madison. So, please. Heed my words and just stay away. For your sake, and for your father’s. Oh—and one more thing.” He steps uncomfortably close, like an actor in a movie lining up for a kiss. “No more girl-dates with your future stepmommy. She’s bad news—literally. Throw a tantrum. Play at being Cinderella. I don’t care what you do, but do not ever speak to that woman again.”

“Fuck you,” I reply, fury coming over me like a volcano spilling over. “Fuck you and fuck Julian, too. You don’t own me, you don’t own the ground I walk on, and you certainly don’t own my family or my life. Fuck you, Jake. Now leave me the hell alone.”

He laughs again. “Oh, you don’t wanna go down that road, sweetie.”

“I’m not your sweetie. And if I see you again, Iwillcall the police.”

I’m too angry and determined not to let Julian walk all over me again. Too desperate to come out of this hot mess with my head held high. Jake tries to say something else, but I walk back into the restaurant and flip him off, for good measure. By the time I reach my table, he’s already gone.

An uneasy feeling is left behind, and it lurks around me, waiting to pounce and scratch at my consciousness. Rita gives me a curious look. “You okay, sweetie?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” I reply, but my voice trembles.

I need to tell Rhue about this as soon as possible. My dinner is cold, and my friends are watching me intently, yet all I can do is give them an awkward smile as I text Rhue, the fury finally subsiding. Something tells me I’ll be seeing Jake again. I’ll need to be ready. Julian will not prevail, I won’t let him.

My throat tightens. What if it’s out of my control?

Chapter 42

Madison

I skip dessert, my appetite dead and gone. Despite Lindsey and Rita’s protests, I excuse myself for the rest of the evening. My nerves are frayed. Every thought I have sends me back to Jake and Julian. The former is scarier than the latter, oddly enough. At least Julian wears his emotions on his sleeve where I’m concerned. He’s got a personal stake in this. Jake, though…Jake is the monster for hire. He’s calculated. Cold. Probably a functioning psychopath. Considering how young he is, something tells me he has the potential required to become a man even worse than Julian.

Either way, trouble is afoot. Shadows poke and prod me from every corner. I don’t feel safe in my own skin anymore, and it takes every bit of effort I can muster to keep calm in front of my friends. Dammit, I can’t drag other people any farther into this mess.

“Are you sure you can’t stay a little while longer?” Cameron asks as I slip my phone in my clutch and double-check that I have my car keys.

“I’m sorry. You guys go ahead, have fun for me. I’m just not in the mood anymore. Maybe the food didn’t agree with me,even though it’s frickin’ delicious,” I reply, smiling awkwardly. A bad stomach is always a good excuse.

“You know, I didn’t drink at all,” Lindsey says, “and neither has Cameron. I can drive your car back to the dorms tonight if you stick around.”

“Oh, I’m okay, I barely had one glass,” I reply and get up. One more minute here, and they might convince me to stay, after all. Then, one thing will lead to another, and I’ll end up telling them about the fresh hell that’s evolved since the last time I spilled my guts. As much as I want to get some of this off my chest, it’s a bad time. “I’ll see you on Monday, bright and early.” I give Rita a broad smile. “Bring back a slice of something sweet.”

“You bet.” She eyes me carefully as I leave.

Outside, I take a minute. Breathing deeply, I allow the cold November air to jolt me back to life. I feel as though I’ve been asleep this whole time. Maybe that moment earlier with Jake didn’t even happen. Maybe I imagined it. Maybe… Screw that, no matter what I try to tell myself, I know for a fact I wasn’t daydreaming. The goosebumps running up my arms are a stern reminder of Jake.

That bastard came all the way out here, to Ithaca, to deliver a message on behalf of Julian Echeveria. Rhue’s father will not go down easily, that much is clear.

My phone dings. With a trembling hand, I pull it out of my clutch as I make my way to the parking lot. It’s a message from Rhue. He wants to call me, so I text him back that I’m driving. He knows it means I’ll call him later.

My stomach feels heavy, but it’s not because of the food. All I ever wanted was peace and quiet, along with the freedom to be with the people I want to be with. Somehow, Julian inserted himself into my life. He violated me. He defiled my very existence. And now, he has the audacity to try to dictate what Ican and cannot do. If there is a hell, I know he’s got a first-class ticket already booked.

I find my Prius easily among the luxury sedans. Robert’s isn’t exactly the most affordable of Ithaca venues. For only a few weeks a year, the head chef brings certain highly coveted specialties straight from France—among them, white truffles and the still-illegal ortolan bunting. People here keep the latter out of their discussions, though. Getting to try such a thing is only possible if the chef personally knows you. Otherwise, good luck. I get the chills just from thinking about those poor little birds.

“Damn. I’m a fucking ortolan bunting,” I mutter as I get behind the wheel.

And I know of at least one person who wants to eat me whole—bones, beak, and all. Unlike the French traditionalists, however, Julian won’t wear a napkin on his head to “hide his face from God”. No, he’ll crunch me between his teeth in front of his son, if he has to.

Driving out of the parking lot, I try to make a mental plan for what will happen next. I told Jake—and Julian, by extension—to go fuck themselves. Rhue will never allow us to be separated. Not when we’ve only just found each other again. Frankly, I don’t want to leave him, anyway. My heart sings when he’s near. Rhue is the first thing on my mind when I wake up in the morning, and he’s the last thought I fall asleep to every night. Who the hell is Julian to take that from me, too?

I’ll need a contingency plan. I’ll need a safety net. Legal counsel, maybe.

---