Page 38 of A Forbidden Spring
“It doesn’t matter that I have it—” Merrick’s eyes flit to me as I stand like a statue in the entryway. “Wren…fuck, I don’t know where my phone is.”
“Plane ticket?”
I need you to trust me.
Trust me.
Us.
“It’s not what it sounds like?—”
“It’s exactly what it sounds like,” the man I can only assume is his father booms, his face red and the vein in his neck throbbing. “We have plans—a business—and fucking our employees doesn’t change that.”
“Don’t you dare talk to her like that,” Merrick yells but it sounds distant. Itisdistant…because before I know it I’m back in the car, tears streaming down my face as I throw the car in reverse and drive like hell away from him.
From us.
22
MERRICK
“Get the fuck out of my house and don’t come back.”
“You can’t be serious. Staying for a piece of ass. We’re building an empire.”
“I said watch your fucking mouth,” I seethe.
He rolls his eyes like this is some kind of joke, like the woman who owns me heart and soul didn’t witness this fuckery.
“Merrick, this isn’t a joke. The Ellis empire?—”
“It’syourempire, and yeah, I bought into it but I’m done. I want something more than plane rides and conference calls. I want to build a life. With her.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am. Dead serious, and she should’ve been the first to know.” Grabbing my keys from the counter, I look at my father one final time. “If she doesn’t take me back because of you—if she doesn’t give me a chance—then I’ll buy Mountain Side outright and you can consider this my resignation.”
Without waiting for his response, I bang out the door and race toward my SUV, a boulder in the pit of my stomach as I turn over the ignition and gun it out of the driveway.
Please, God, just let her give me a chance to explain.
So many regrets race though my mind as the trees whip past my window. I should have shouted how much I care about her from the rooftops.
Fuck the rules and fuck everyone who has a problem with me and Wren.
If she takes me back…
I’m so focused on the latter that the sound blaring through the night doesn’t register.
Until it does.
A car horn.
An accident.
An SUV lies on its side in the middle of the road, and as I slam on the brakes and pull onto the shoulder, my headlights catch on something metallic in the ditch.
Another car.
