Page 66 of Crashed
The guy snorted. “I’ll bet.” He shook his head and swayed on his seat, quickly righting himself.
How was he supposed to have a reasonable discussion with the man when he was shitfaced, or close to it, anyway.
“I’ve tried to call you several times, but for some reason you’ve been ignoring my calls.”
He snorted again. “We have nothing to discuss.”
Deacon tried not to grind his teeth. “Emily, for one.”
“Don’t mention that bitch’s name to me.”
“We need to?—”
“She told me you’d moved her back in.”
The blood in his veins turned to ice. “What?”
“I can’t believe you took her back.”
Took her back? “I haven’t.”
“That’s not what she’s saying.”
“She convinced me she’d relapsed. That she might hurt herself.”
Steve snorted. “Looks like she’s played us both for a fool.”
When the hell would he learn? He’d lied to Alex, been forced to stay away from her. Forced to suffer Emily in his home the last couple days because she’d convinced him— and he’d stupidly believed her—that she had nowhere else to go. He’d sat with her for hours, doing his best to convince her to get more help. She’d played the victim so well, while she slept in his fucking spare room. And all the while, she’d been plotting. Some sick attempt to get him back.
Steve took a sip of his drink. “I asked her to marry me.
Did you know that? She turned me down. Apparently, I don’t make enough money.” He slammed the glass on the bar. “So fucking cold.”
Deacon didn’t reply, too stunned, too damn angry at himself for letting her do this to him, again. Steve took his silence as an invitation to keep talking.
“I’m surprised she didn’t tell you during your cozy dinner date.” Steve must have read the confusion on his face. “You two were plastered all over the society pages.”
His first thought went to Alex, but he quickly brushed it aside. The only way she’d read the society pages was at gunpoint.
“She’s made fools of us, both of us, right from the start.” Deacon turned to walk away. He needed to find Emily. He’d seen her when he’d walked in and had planned to avoid her all evening, but now he wanted to find her so he could wring her goddamn neck.
Steve grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Do you know why she slept with me that first time? Why you caught us? Because she wanted to make you jealous.” He waved his hand around. “So you’d realize you loved her.” He snickered.
“Of course you ended things, and when her father found out that she’d lied to you about a pregnancy and screwed around with me, he cut her off.”
What? “She told you about the baby?”
“Oh, no. No, no, no. She wouldn’t risk scaring off her meal ticket. I heard her and Tammy talking. She was only with me until she could win you back, you see. Then you went and found someone else and blew Emily’s plan all to hell. She thought it was only a matter of time before you forgave her for her lies, and then she’d lure you back.”
She’d been manipulating him all this time. “The counseling sessions I’ve been paying for? The emotional breakdowns?”
“She never went to a session. The guy promised to keep his mouth shut if she…sorry, if you kept paying. The only thing wrong with Emily is that she’s a money-hungry, manipulative bitch.” He shook his head. “Nothing can fix that shit.”
He spotted Emily across the room and pushed off the bar, determined to confront her. But then he noticed several people had stopped in their tracks, staring at something near the entrance.
Deacon saw Jarrod Prescott standing near the main doors, and he watched as a grin spread across the other man’s face before he strode over to whoever was causing the commotion. Dread moved through him when he heard a very distinctive laugh. Rusty.
Then he saw them, his sisters and Alex, break through the crowd. All three were dressed like they were out clubbing—in other words, practically naked. Alex had on the boots he’d bought her and a skirt so short he knew if she turned around and leaned forward, he’d see ass cheek. He wanted to drag her out of there and give her the scene she’d come for, but she was doing a good job of it on her own.
