Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
He squirmed like the weasel he was, but my hold on him was rock solid. “Get your fucking hands off me!” He shoved at my shoulders, trying to free himself, but I spun, kicking blindly at his office chair. It sailed across the room, slamming into the bookshelf as I pinned him against the wall. His head cracked on a diploma, sending it crashing to the floor.
“What? You don’t like being touched without permission?” I seethed.
“What the fuck is your problem, man?” He tried again to escape my grasp, his pathetic attempts only fueling my rage. “Patty!” he shouted, craning his neck toward the door. “Call the fucking police!”
The knob rattled as who I could only assume was the receptionist trying to get into the office. Her voice was laced with fear as she responded, “They’re on the way!”
“You better hope they’re fast.” I spoke with such an eerie calm I barely recognized my own voice.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Oh, this isn’t about me.” I shook him, his back hitting the wall as a button flew from his shirt. Angling my face down to his, I leveled him with a hard stare. “Let me make myself perfectly clear. You so much as breathe the same air as Gwendolyn Pierce and I will rip your skull from your spineless torso.”
“Gwen?” It took but a split second for him to put the pieces together, and once he did, he let out a sardonic laugh. “Truett West. We meet at last. Christ, you’re even more of a lunatic than I’d heard.” Spittle flew from his lips as he leaned into me. “Stupid too. Did you not see the sign when you walked in? Do you have any idea who the hell I am?”
I wouldn’t have cared if the sign had said President of the United States. There was nothing on my mind except all the ways I was going to make him pay for what he had done to Gwen.
“I know who you are. You’re the troll under the bridge who thought it was okay to touch a woman even after she said no.” With another violent shake, I slanted my head, our noses practically touching. “Let’s see you force yourself on me.”
He smirked. “You’re not my type, but I do appreciate the offer. By the way, you got it wrong. Gwen’s last name is Weaver. Not Pierce. And sure as fuck not West.”
The fury that had been simmering in my gut grew into a rolling boil. “Big man, huh? Only way you can get some is to force yourself on a woman.”
Smug arrogance coated his every word. “I’ve never had to force myself on anyone, least of all, my wife. I’m sure you remember how marriage works.”
“Yeah, asshole, I do. I remember that being married meant both people consented and no one ever threw up when it was over.”
He scoffed. “I don’t know what lies she told you. She loved everything thing I did to her. Fucking begged for it. She’s just looking for an excuse to make herself feel better about how she ruined her life when she walked away from me.”
The sheer lunacy of his statement forced laughter from my throat. “You’re out of your Goddamn mind if you think she regrets leaving you.”
His dark eyes sparkled. His twisted ass was enjoying this. And they called me crazy.
“You’re delusional, man. With me, she was taken care of. She didn’t have to spend all day and night in that dump of a diner. I was the one who took care of the bills, made sure she had what she needed. Which, from what I’ve heard, is a hell of a lot more than you ever gave her. No surprise, she took care of me in return.” A vile grin stretched across his face. “Been a long time since you were with her, but I doubt you’ve forgotten how good she is at satisfying a man.”
Bile surged up the back of my throat as I thought about my Gwen, soft and sweet, ever having to be touched by this monster. Much less spending a fucking decade with him.
Jeff Weaver was the worst kind of human. He thought he was a smooth talker, born with a silver spoon in his ass, someone who had never been held accountable for his actions. He’d spent his entire marriage getting away with any and everything he wanted, abusing the woman he was supposed to love and protect all for his own selfish and despicable pleasures.
Like a scene from a movie playing out in my head, I thought about how I was going to relish my hands giving him back all the pain he’d caused her.
His grunts as my fist connected with his nose.
His cartilage crunching under my knuckles.
His pleas for me to stop.
I reared a fist back, my arm tingling in anticipation.