Page 26 of Addicted to the Bad Boy
I bite my lip so hard I taste blood, but the pain doesn’t stop the flood of shameful memories rushing in.
“I’m going to breed you, Mira.”
The words echo in my mind like an off-key instrument. My dad always warned me about “lesser” men. He said they’d do anything to get with a girl like me because of our family’s money. I always scoffed at him and told him to mind his own business, but maybe he was right. And the last thing I want to doeveris admit my dad was right about something in my life.
My phone buzzes again.
Finn, again.
Again, I ignore it.
I hear the front door open and cringe as male footsteps approach. I can already tell they belong to Tyler. He smells like cologne and cigars as he comes around in front of the couch and looks down at me.
“Where’s your dad?” he asks.
I shrug. “Dunno.”
He frowns down at me. “What happened to you?”
Such a sensitive man. “Don’t worry about it.”
“You look tired.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” I reply, standing. He follows me into the kitchen. I realize I never brought Mom her tea and instantly feel like a terrible daughter. With a sigh, I put some water on and go to the pantry for her tea bags.
“What are these?” Tyler asks behind me, and I freeze.Shit. I turn and see him glancing down at the photos. He looks up at me, confused. “Is that—?”
“Finn? Yeah.” I nod. “Package showed up earlier. That girl must have sent it.”
He doesn’t gloat. He doesn’t smirk. He just lifts the final photo and stares at it like it’s some contagion—a virus that could infect the whole house if left here.
“It’s not your fault, Mira,” he says, sounding concerned. “This guy clearly isn’t the most moral man in the world. If he’s okay with blackmail, fidelity probably isn’t too high on his list.”
“I thought he loved me,” I blurt out, instantly regretting it. Why am I opening up to Tyler? He’s been cheating on me for probably as long as we’ve been together. He’s not exactly the guy to have the moral high ground here either.
That’s when it slides in—a thought. Awful and electric. Buzzing in my mind like a frayed wire.
If I can’t have true love, at least I can have control.
Maybe I can even have revenge.
I swallow hard and turn to Tyler, take the photo from his hand, and set it down. “Tyler?”
“Yes?”
“I don’t accept it.”
He frowns. “You don’t accept what?” He points down to the photos of Finn. “It’s all right there—”
“No, not that,” I reply. “I don’t accept you calling off our marriage.”
His frown deepens. He stares at me for a long moment, blinks several times, and takes a breath. “Are you for real?”
I nod, feeling like I’ve suddenly slipped into an alternate reality or a video game where I’m playing a different version of myself.
“Yes, I am.”
His eyes move faster as he examines me, trying to see if I’m screwing with him or not. I don’t blame him. I’d be thinking the same if I were him. Then, when he sees I’m serious, he smiles.
