Page 67 of Crashed
Jarrod joined them, and the bastard slung his arm around Alex’s shoulders, grinned, and whispered something in her ear. She looked up at him, threw her head back, and laughed.
He lost it.
By the time he’d pushed through the growing crowd, Piper was sitting on the CEO of Tech Industries’s lap, and Rusty had pulled the president of the biggest finance company in Miami up to dance. The guy was close to eighty and looked like he might stroke out at any moment.
He stopped in front of Alex, close to stroking out himself, especially if Prescott didn’t take his goddamn hands off her. “You have it, you’ve got my attention.”
The woman completely ignored him, still chatting it up with Jarrod fucking Prescott. He didn’t care what others thought. He could never be anything but proud to be seen with Alex. It didn’t matter to him what she wore, he’d still be the luckiest man in the world. What pissed him off was the fact she thought this would embarrass him.
“Alex.”
Those dark eyes moved to him, locked on, daring him to blow his stack, to walk away, to prove her low opinion of him. She placed her hand on his chest, and he sucked in a breath just from her touch. “There you are, Daddy,” she said looking up at him from beneath lowered lashes, a smirk on her face as she dragged a finger slowly down his abs to his belt buckle.
Jesus. Some of these people might be ignorant enough to believe that’s what he was to her, a goddamn sugar daddy, but Alex—and his fucking sisters—should know him a hell of a lot better than that.
Jarrod chuckled, and Deacon shot him a dark look. The guy wisely removed his arm from around her shoulders.
Deacon grabbed Alex’s arm, intending to take her somewhere more private, but she shook him off. “Take your hands off me.” Her voice was deceptively calm, but he didn’t miss the way it shook. It damn near killed him.
Those photos of him and Emily in the newspaper, Alex had seen them. He couldn’t think of any other reason for this. “We need to talk. Those pictures?—”
She crossed her arms, causing her barely covered breasts to almost pop out of her top. “The time for talk is over, Deke.”
He shrugged out of his jacket. “Put this on. Now.” Every male in the room had his eyes on her, on his woman, and he wanted to tear their fucking eyes out.
“Why? Are you ashamed to be seen with your whore? Afraid your wife will see us?”
He shoved a hand through his hair. “I don’t have a wife, Alex. You know that.”
Her beautiful face twisted—anger, hurt, it was all there to see. She hid nothing. She loved him. She loved him, and he’d hurt her. Badly. “Alex…sweetheart…”
Her hand connected with the side of his face, the sound loud in the now near silent room. “Don’t call me that.”
His sisters were at Alex’s side in an instant. Rusty scowled at him. “You fucked up, Deke, big-time.” Then she grabbed Alex’s hand. “Come on. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Then Piper, his usually cool-headed, sweet sister, stepped up to him. “If you bring that skank”—she pointed over his shoulder, and he knew Emily was standing right behind him, making this ten times worse, and as usual, taking advantage of the situation for her own gain—“to my cottage, I’ll run the bitch down, then back over her for good measure.”
Emily gasped, and he spun to face his ex-wife. “Walk away from me, now. Before I say something in front of all these people you sure as hell won’t want me to.”
She grabbed his arm, and he shook her off. “I love you, Deacon.” She said it without an ounce of real emotion except desperation, desperation that had nothing to do with losing a man who was supposedly the love of her life.
“Well, that’s unfortunate”—he turned back to the three pissed-off females still standing behind him—“because I’m in love with Alex.” Alex’s eyes widened, and his sisters’ mouths dropped open. “Are you really so shocked?” he rasped. He heard Emily’s broken sob behind him, heard her hasty retreat, but kept his gaze on Alex. “Baby?”
Alex stumbled back a step and shook her head, a tear streaking down her cheek, then she spun on her heel and ran from the room.
Rusty grabbed his arm when he started after her. “What about Emily, the photos?”
“I don’t have time to explain.”
Piper joined her older sister and crossed her arms. “Make time, or we’ll make sure you never get near her again.”
He was on the verge of losing his mind. Every second Alex was getting farther away from him. “There’s nothing going on between me and Emily. She’s been playing me, manipulating situations, like she always has. I love Alex.”
“Bitch,” Piper growled.
“You better make this right. You better do everything in your power to make our girl listen to you.” Rusty’s fierce expression wobbled. “You made her cry, Deke. Alex never cries. Ever. Not since?—”
Not since she ran through a window at the cottage to avoid being taken back to her foster home. She’d gotten that wicked scar on her arm as a reminder. How could she ever forgive him? Alex had suffered more than her fair share of pain, and he’d done nothing but cause her more.
