idea of getting excited about a
wedding hilarious, but now it was the next time he’d see
Kerry.
And that was one hell of a thing to be
excited about.
* * * * *
Brad tossed a cheeseburger wrapper
over his shoulder, into the backseat. When he reached into the
drive-through bag, his fingers scraped the bottom, tangling in an
empty straw wrapper.
What the hell?
They hadn’t given him any
fries.
Rain spattered across his windshield,
and he flipped the wipers on, crumpling up the bag and throwing it
at the dash. The receipt fell out, the one that showed that he’d
paid for the whole meal, fries included.
The dumb bitch working the
drive-through had ripped him off, and she’d had an attitude when
he’d gone through, too. She’d probably done it on
purpose.
His temples throbbed, bringing back
his headache from the night before. He should drive straight back
there, give the little bitch a piece of his mind. He knew it, but
he didn’t have the fucking time.
He didn’t have any time to spare. Not
after waiting for three years – wasting three years, anticipating
this moment.
A truck came rolling through the rain
behind him, slowing down as it approached the section of road he’d
pulled over on, just outside the mansion gates. Gravel crackled
under its huge tires as it edged toward the shoulder, like it was
going to stop.
He bit back a curse, looked over at
the driver and gave the nosy bastard what would hopefully look like
a friendly wave.
It worked. The vehicle went on its
way, leaving Brad on the side of the road in his own
truck.
Fuck, he hated this. Sitting around
and watching – waiting – like his time didn’t mean anything. Like
the whole fucking world revolved around Kerry, and he was just
another asshole caught in her orbit, waiting for her to make an
appearance.
He ground his teeth, took a long drink
of his sweet tea. The ice rattled at the bottom of the cup as he
drained it, and he slammed it back into the cup holder.
He didn’t even know why he was sitting
around waiting for her to come out of the house. Not after last
night – he’d gotten a pretty good look at her, parked on the next
street over from hers. He’d seen her walking out of her house with
some guy, some bastard she was probably fucking.
He wasn’t surprised. Not a damn bit.
Still, it was hard to keep a clear head now that he’d actually seen
her screwing around on him. He’d pictured it a million times
before, but somehow, actually seeing it had been
different.
The rain slowed down enough that his
wiper blades screeched against the windshield, so he turned them
down. His knuckles ached; they were all busted up from the night
before. He’d hit the dash, hit a lot of things, wishing it was that
stupid bastard’s face.
The same thought kept running through
his mind: how dare anyone fuck his wife? How fucking dare
he?
He obviously had no idea who he was
dealing with, the lengths Brad was willing to go to in order to
defend what was his. State lines and paperwork didn’t mean a damn
thing. Anyone back in Kentucky would’ve known, wouldn’t have been
shit-brained enough to lay so much as a finger on his
woman.
He slammed the car into drive, pulled
away from the road, upending the iced tea he’d only shoved halfway
back into the cup holder. Ice spilled all over the passenger
seat.
He kept driving. He didn’t need to sit
around waiting for a glimpse of her face anymore. He knew it was
her – he’d followed her home from the place where the newspaper had
said she worked. It’d been dark then, so he’d only been half-sure
it was her.
Yesterday had been enough, though.
He’d seen her crystal clear stepping out with that son of a bitch,
had flattened her tires after she’d returned home alone that night.
She looked different, but she wasn’t. She was still his, even if
she’d gone on a three year vacation.
She’d realize that soon
enough.
CHAPTER 10
“ Have you seen The Heat ?” Sasha
wedding hilarious, but now it was the next time he’d see
Kerry.
And that was one hell of a thing to be
excited about.
* * * * *
Brad tossed a cheeseburger wrapper
over his shoulder, into the backseat. When he reached into the
drive-through bag, his fingers scraped the bottom, tangling in an
empty straw wrapper.
What the hell?
They hadn’t given him any
fries.
Rain spattered across his windshield,
and he flipped the wipers on, crumpling up the bag and throwing it
at the dash. The receipt fell out, the one that showed that he’d
paid for the whole meal, fries included.
The dumb bitch working the
drive-through had ripped him off, and she’d had an attitude when
he’d gone through, too. She’d probably done it on
purpose.
His temples throbbed, bringing back
his headache from the night before. He should drive straight back
there, give the little bitch a piece of his mind. He knew it, but
he didn’t have the fucking time.
He didn’t have any time to spare. Not
after waiting for three years – wasting three years, anticipating
this moment.
A truck came rolling through the rain
behind him, slowing down as it approached the section of road he’d
pulled over on, just outside the mansion gates. Gravel crackled
under its huge tires as it edged toward the shoulder, like it was
going to stop.
He bit back a curse, looked over at
the driver and gave the nosy bastard what would hopefully look like
a friendly wave.
It worked. The vehicle went on its
way, leaving Brad on the side of the road in his own
truck.
Fuck, he hated this. Sitting around
and watching – waiting – like his time didn’t mean anything. Like
the whole fucking world revolved around Kerry, and he was just
another asshole caught in her orbit, waiting for her to make an
appearance.
He ground his teeth, took a long drink
of his sweet tea. The ice rattled at the bottom of the cup as he
drained it, and he slammed it back into the cup holder.
He didn’t even know why he was sitting
around waiting for her to come out of the house. Not after last
night – he’d gotten a pretty good look at her, parked on the next
street over from hers. He’d seen her walking out of her house with
some guy, some bastard she was probably fucking.
He wasn’t surprised. Not a damn bit.
Still, it was hard to keep a clear head now that he’d actually seen
her screwing around on him. He’d pictured it a million times
before, but somehow, actually seeing it had been
different.
The rain slowed down enough that his
wiper blades screeched against the windshield, so he turned them
down. His knuckles ached; they were all busted up from the night
before. He’d hit the dash, hit a lot of things, wishing it was that
stupid bastard’s face.
The same thought kept running through
his mind: how dare anyone fuck his wife? How fucking dare
he?
He obviously had no idea who he was
dealing with, the lengths Brad was willing to go to in order to
defend what was his. State lines and paperwork didn’t mean a damn
thing. Anyone back in Kentucky would’ve known, wouldn’t have been
shit-brained enough to lay so much as a finger on his
woman.
He slammed the car into drive, pulled
away from the road, upending the iced tea he’d only shoved halfway
back into the cup holder. Ice spilled all over the passenger
seat.
He kept driving. He didn’t need to sit
around waiting for a glimpse of her face anymore. He knew it was
her – he’d followed her home from the place where the newspaper had
said she worked. It’d been dark then, so he’d only been half-sure
it was her.
Yesterday had been enough, though.
He’d seen her crystal clear stepping out with that son of a bitch,
had flattened her tires after she’d returned home alone that night.
She looked different, but she wasn’t. She was still his, even if
she’d gone on a three year vacation.
She’d realize that soon
enough.
CHAPTER 10
“ Have you seen The Heat ?” Sasha
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