Chapter Fourteen
Hawke sat on his motorcycle by the curb outside the restaurant and watched as his wife hugged the man she’d been talking to for the last hour. The man was dressed in an expensive suit. He kissed their joined hands.
Fuck. Anger burned deep in his gut. He started the engine and took off like a bat out of hell.
She’d given him the check. He’d watched her do it.
He’d trusted her, and she’d played him. She really had been pretending all this time. There was no denying these two had a history. The way they looked at each other so lovingly made him want to punch something. Maybe that guy’s face.
She’d said she was good at pretending, and she was right.
You deserve it, asshole.
He’d let his guard down, and she’d taken him for a ride, convinced him to give her money so she could help her lover.
You’re the one who wanted to make the deal. You made her the offer.
Fuck. That didn’t help. What ate at him the most was that he’d thought she’d be honest with him. Tell him the truth about the money. It was fifty-thousand fucking dollars, and she’d just handed it over to some asshole. Probably the same one she’d given his credit card.
Dumb, since she had to know the charges would tell him exactly what she was up to. Paris, his ass. She was headed to Cancun with that jerk.
Fuck that shit.
God, he wanted to punch something. He rode up into the hills, needing to get as far away as possible. His phone vibrated in his pocket, but he ignored it. After a while, he rode around the lake.
His thoughts whirled through his brain.
But he’d calmed down. Enough. He’d throw her ass out.
Fuck. He couldn’t. The will.
She had him on that. He had to stay married to her, or he’d lose the company. He couldn’t let that happen. But he’d be damned if he’d fund her trip with her little boyfriend.
He pounded a fist on the gas tank.
Fine. He could do this for a week. He could pretend just as well as she could.
If there hadn’t been blood, he’d be wondering if she’d actually been a virgin.
But everything else––could he believe anything she’d said in the last two months?
She was a fucking Oscar-winning actress, but he could do her one better.
He’d fallen for it. Same thing his dad had done time and again. Let a woman run all over him.
Never again.
By the time he made it home, she was asleep.
He couldn’t stand to be in the same room with her.
“Hawke?” The light next to the bed switched on. “Are you okay?”
He didn’t answer. Didn’t trust himself to. Why the hell am I so mad? It was all temporary, anyway.
But you care about her.
Correction. Cared.
“Where were you?”
She was wearing one of his T-shirts.
He shoved some stuff in a bag. He would make an excuse that he had to leave town to check on one of the other dealerships. He couldn’t watch her lie to him anymore.
“Please, why are you packing? Is everything okay?”
She sounded so fucking sincere.
“No. Everything is not fucking okay,” he bellowed. Crap. He hadn’t meant to yell. He never allowed himself to lose his temper. It was one of his rules. Stupid shit happened when he lost his temper.
She flinched and took a step back.
“What happened?”
Fine. She wanted to do this now? Then he would.
“Where were you?” he asked. “When I called you earlier?”
She glanced down at the ground. “I told you. Having dinner with a friend.”
“What friend?”
“No one you know.” She was sticking as close to the truth as she could.
That’s what liars did.
“I saw you.” He didn’t know why he blurted it out. “With that man. You two were pretty close.”
She shook her head. “It isn’t what you think.”
“So you didn’t give him the check that you’ve been carrying around in your purse?”
“Are you spying on me? What the hell, Hawke?”
“What?”
“It’s none of your business. That money was a part of our deal. You don’t have the right to say what I do with it.”
Wrong thing to say. “Who the fuck is he? Is he your lover? Were you guys playing me this whole time?”
Her face fell. “Lover? What kind of idiot are you? You’re my only lover. Remember, asshole? You’re something, Hawke. Something else. I might be fucked up, but you are…a…”
“What?”
“An asshole.”
“Tell someone who cares.”
She backed away then. “Why am I bothering? You know, I’m not the only one with secrets. Never once did you explain why we had to get married in the first place. And never once did I push you about it. You had your reasons for wanting to stay quiet, and I trusted you. Obviously, you don’t feel the same way. Don’t bother packing. I’m more than happy to leave.”
She pushed past him this time and grabbed a pair of jeans and her shirt.
“So now you’re going to run away?”
“Aargh! Isn’t that what you were going to do?” She ripped off his T-shirt and tossed it on the closet floor. Then she pulled one of hers on.
“Fine. You’re right about the fifty K. I gave that to you free and clear, but it didn’t give you the right to steal from me.”
She glanced up at him with fury in her eyes.
Why is she angry? Because I caught her?
“I’ve never taken anything from you. What are you talking about?”
“Right. I could file charges against you. I won’t, but I could. I want you to tell me the truth.”
She turned on him. “Charges? For what? That money you gave me was a part of our deal. I don’t fucking owe you anything.”
“What about the charges on my credit card? Did you think I wouldn’t see the plane tickets and hotel charges? That I’d let that shit fly?”
“I’ve never used your stupid card. I can’t find it.”
“Right, and how did you buy all that shit the other day when I had to come pick you up?”
She grabbed her backpack and stuffed some clothes in it. “You can have someone come box up the rest of my stuff and ship it to me. I didn’t use your stupid card. I used mine. Not sure how many times I have to say it. I don’t know where your card is. I wasn’t sure if you’d actually put it in my purse.”
She dug into her backpack. “Here.” She shoved a receipt into his hands. “Look at the numbers. That’s my bank card, asshole. I don’t know what happened to your card, but I don’t have it. I decided I’d buy the stuff for the house as a gift.”
He waved the receipt in the air. “And my black card just magically disappeared. You really are just like all of the rest of them.”
“Who? Who am I like?” she asked through gritted teeth.
“The women who marry my dad. They want his money. Just like your mother.”
She snorted.
What the fuck was that?
“My mom is after your dad’s money? Oh, that’s a good one. That’s what all this shit is about? You think I’m a gold digger, like my mom?”
He grunted.
But she’d nailed it in one.
“Yes.”
“By the way, that guy, he was my stepbrother. And, yes, the money was for his business. He’s been going through a tough time, and he’s always been there for me. I wanted to be there for him. He’ll pay me back with interest. And then you can have your stupid money. I’ll pay whatever it is you think I owe. But right now, I’m getting away from your crazy. I don’t need your stupid crap. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you, but I do know I don’t have to put up with you being an asshole.” She stomped around him and bee-lined through the living room.
She threw open the door, and his dad stood on the doorstep with a woman.
“Hi, Mom. Hawke, I don’t think you’ve met my mother. Just so you know, she owns one of the largest cosmetic companies in the world. She’s a recovering alcoholic, and—I’m sorry, Mom—not really a very good mom. But she doesn’t need your dad’s fucking money. She’s got plenty of her own. I don’t like to ask her for it because it comes with strings. So I make it on my own.”
“Honey, are you okay?” her mother asked.
“No. I need a ride to the airport.”
“Hawke?” his dad asked. “What’s going on, son?”
“We’re having a fight,” he said. Fuck. Of all the times, why did his dad show up now?
She turned to him. “I have an audition in four days in Paris. You can send my stuff there, honey.”
Then she turned to his dad. “I’m sure you’re a nice guy, but your son can be a real asshole.”
Tears fell freely down her cheeks. She straightened her shoulders and then turned back to face him. “I loved you. I trusted you. For the first time, I trusted someone who wasn’t me. And you fucked it up. You don’t deserve me. You never did.”
Then she turned around and stomped out of his house, but not before she shot him the finger.
“Mom. I really need that ride,” she yelled.
Hawke’s dad handed her mother the keys to whatever he’d been driving.
And Amy walked out of his life.
Good riddance.
He was well rid of her.
He stared down at the receipt in his hands.
Why would she use her own card to buy crap for his house if she was scamming him with that guy?
Her brother, right?
“What the hell was that?”
“My wife,” he said. “Pissed off.”
“Shit,” his dad said. “What did you do?”
He opened the receipt and read the numbers again. She’d spent her own money on him. She didn’t have more than fifteen hundred in her bank account. He’d asked Gray to do a credit check on her.
She’d spent her own money on him.
Maybe it was her brother who’d needed her help.
But then, who had his credit card? None of this crap made sense.
I trusted you. She had, but he hadn’t done the same for her.
Nothing she’d done the last few months showed that she would ever steal from him, because she hadn’t. She’d taken that money to help a family member—for the same reason he’d needed her help.
She’d been telling the truth.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
She loves me. I’m an asshole.
“I think I fucked up bad. Real bad.”