Page 112 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part Two
I sit at the table with my head tucked into my folded arms for about five minutes after he storms off.
I’m not equipped to deal with this primarily because I never expected tohaveto deal with this. I’d planned for what I’d say when the kids were older and wanted to meet their father, or what I’d say if they had questions about him.
I didn’t plan on having completely wrong information, or him not knowing about their existence, or him wanting—no, demanding—to be in their lives.
I’ve had all of two days and some change to absorb the seismic shift in our lives and come up with a plan.
The phone Storm, or whoever, left in my room while I was sleeping, buzzes across the marble countertop.
A text message with a link to an encrypted medical file. Even though I knew all my results would come back clear, it’s a relief to open them up and see the clean bill of health.
I bet Storm got a first look, too.
An indelicate huff streams from my mouth as I remember his words.
Fucking often, fucking raw.
“Jesus Christ,” I grumble, unsure what the hell to think. We’ve already crossed that line. Hell, we crossed the line in my foyer when I demanded he make me come. Storm Sandoval’s hands shouldn’t have been anywhere near my cooch.
But he’s kissed me, fingered me, fucked me—and I let him. No, Irequiredhim to. I can’t hide from my complicity. I’ve chosen to be reckless when it comes to Storm, so now the answer is: Will I go deeper down the path of sure destruction?
My phone buzzes again in my palm, but it’s a call this time.
Melissa.
An edge of anxiety filters in through the guilt. I’d earned a vacation, but it wasn’t exactly fair that I’d left my assistant to handle everything while I ignored the world.
“Oh, thank God, Liv! I was beginning to think you were dead,” Melissa says as soon as I answer.
I jolt when she calls me “Liv,” since no one in Storm’s circle has called me such in days. But I also cringe for two reasons—one, because that almost was a true statement, and two, I’ve been completely off the grid and haven’t checked in since the day before I left for France. How was that only three days ago?
“My phone got damaged, and I’ve just gotten a new one.” I rub my forehead.
A rustling sound like paper on paper comes over the line, and Melissa pauses briefly before saying, “It’s fine. Things have been uneventful over here, which I suppose is good, all things considered.”
I pause at that.
“Right,” I reply. After more silence, I say, “What aren’t you telling me?”
Melissa makes a noise that sounds a lot like a grunt.
“Just tell me.”
“Okay, so. Zane is becoming…a problem,” she says, and yup, I should have foreseen he’d be an issue.
“God, what’s he doing now?” I put my cheek on the cool stone, wishing I could go back in time a few months and keep my legs closed to goofy men.
“He’s been having meetings with the Keystone folks,” she says, her tone dark and angry. “And he’s called a meeting with our executive board. They’re supposed to meet in a few weeks.”
I grind my teeth so hard my eye socket starts to ache.
“Any news on the subject of the meeting?” I ask slowly. Melissa makes a displeased sound.
“Nothing concrete in writing, but I have it on good authority it’ll be a vote of no-confidence about you.”
Now it’s my turn to grunt. I should have expected this.
“How do you know?” I ask, even though the allegation tracks.
