Soaked (The Water's Edge #2) (15 page)

I rubbed my palm over my eyes, and licked my salty lips. I wanted to say something, anything to him. But I didn’t even know where to start.

“Sadie, don’t hang up. Even if you don’t say anything back tonight, just don’t hang up, okay? If this is the closest I can get to falling asleep with you, I’ll take it. Just knowing you’re on the other end, fuck, it’s so much better than this emptiness I’ve felt since you left.”

I pulled back the gross blanket, settling between the rough sheets and trying to find a comfortable position on the hard, lumpy pillow. What I wouldn’t give to be nestled against his chest, using the crook of his shoulder to sleep on, his solid warmth lulling me to sleep. But I’d settle for his deep voice in my ear instead. Even if I couldn’t admit that to him.

“I don’t know what finally made you call tonight, but I’m glad you did. I’ve been going crazy here without you. Even General Beauregard is avoiding me. I guess I’ve been a moody bastard.” He chuckled, then his voice turned softer, more serious. “I hope you’re okay. I hope you’re happy. Even if that means you’re not coming back to me when you come home. That’s all I really want—for you to be happy.”

We were both quiet. Just breathing over the line, our rhythms adjusting until we were synchronized. I pressed a hand over the ache in my chest.

“I’m just gonna talk, okay, Sadie? Tell you all the stupid stuff I would’ve told you if you were next to me in bed. About Wyatt making a fool of himself at the bar, and the crazy client I had the other day who wanted to fish a tournament but was scared to actually touch the fish he caught, and about the trouble Cody has been causing Hailey, and . . . and I’m just gonna talk because I’m scared if I stop you’re gonna hang up.”

He took a deep breath. Then launched into story after story. The words blurred together. The only thing I really listened to was his voice. The way it filled with laughter and twisted with sarcasm and gentled when he talked about his nephew. The way he never stopped talking, never let go of me even as the clock crept past one, then two, then three.

I never saw it reach four. I must’ve fallen asleep to the lullaby of his words.

When the insistent beep of the alarm woke me at five, I still had the phone in my hand, although it was no longer pressed to me ear.

Texts from him and Rue waited for me.

Helpless to resist, I opened the one from him first.

It was a pic of General Beauregard stretched out on the bed next to him, drool puddling beneath his jowls.

West: He’s keeping your spot warm.

I lingered for a moment, imagining West in bed, rumpled and warm and probably shirtless, reaching over to snuggle the oversized hound. Was I jealous of a dog in that moment?

Maybe.

Probably.

Forcing away the bitter sting of longing, I tapped on the message from Rue.

Rue: Everything’s in place. Just waiting on you.

I sucked in a deep breath and thought of Asher with his smug, arrogant face I’d once found so handsome. How he’d proven his utter lack of decency as a human being. How he’d broken me, ripping everything I thought I knew about my life to shreds.

A smile cracked the dried tearstains on my face.

I couldn’t wait to repay the favor.

BY THE TIME
the plane landed and Rue picked me up from the airport, I only had ninety minutes to prepare myself. When we got to the hotel room—I’d convinced her I didn’t want my family involved or to know I was in town until after I had things under control—she immediately set to work on my makeup. No, that’s not being shallow. When confronting scum like Asshole, it was important to feel untouchable, invincible. On a level so much higher than him, he could never hope to reach it in his wildest dreams. And part of that was external armor: flawless hair and makeup and a killer outfit. And shoes I wouldn’t trip in. Nothing ruined a dramatic exit like tripping over heels that were too tall.

She pulled my hair back into a French braid that somehow screamed sophistication and effortless style, despite its messy-on-purpose appearance. A bright, silky top, black skinny jeans, wedge sandals and fierce eyeliner completed the look.

We argued about whether she would accompany me all the way to my old loft or wait in the car. She didn’t want to leave me alone with him. I wanted to show him I was strong enough to confront him solo. We had to watch the time carefully though. Once I showed up, I’d only have about thirty-five minutes or so before the life Asshole had become so comfortable with came crashing down around him.

Because Rue never did anything half-assed and wouldn’t be caught dead driving a standard compact car, she pulled the low-slung luxury rental to the curb outside the converted warehouse on the edge of the trendy side of Nashville I used to call home. Turning off the engine, she caught my hand before I could reach for the door handle.

“Are you ready for this? Do you need a moment?”

I licked my dry lips, hoping I didn’t smudge my lipstick. “Does it really matter if I’m ready?”

Dropping my cold fingers, she grabbed my shoulders and tugged until I was facing her. “You, Sadie Mullins, are a strong, beautiful woman worth a thousand Asher Snowdens. What he did to you was not only a breach of your trust, your relationship, and basic fucking human decency, but is also a reflection of him. Not you.
Him.
His weakness. His shallowness. His fragile fucking ego that needed his brainless friends to tell him what a stud he was for him to feel remotely like a man. Which he isn’t. He’s an asshole. Not even a high-production-quality porn asshole. All hairless and bleached and shit. No, he’s like a dirty, hairy, I-can’t-wipe-my-own-ass-without-help asshole with hemorrhoids. Big, fat, painful ones.” Her fingers dug into my upper arms.

“Big ones, huh?” A strangled giggle escaped from me.

“Huge.” She nodded, dead serious. “Not to mention his sheer idiocy. Everything’s set in motion now. There’s no escape for him. He’s not getting away with it.” She hesitated, before repeating herself. “He’s not getting away with it. Meaning, you don’t have to go up there and see him at all, and he’ll still get everything that’s coming to him without you ever having to lay eyes on that scumbag again.”

Reaching up, I pulled her hands from my shoulders. “I know. But I need to do this. For me.”

“Want me to come up?” She offered one last time. “I could wait in the hall, out of sight, but nearby in case you need me.”

I reached across the console and wrapped her in a giant hug.
This
is what true friendship was.

“I can do this, Rue. I have to.” My face hardened with determination, and I took a second to just breathe. Thirty-one minutes left.

Show time.

Flashing her a grim smile, I opened the car door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. As I headed for the front door, Rue’s voice followed me. “Kick him in the nuts when you’re done ripping him a new one!”

I snickered.

As I walked across the limestone floor of the lobby and waited for the elevator, I kept waiting for my nerves to hit, but my stomach stayed settled. My palms and pits were dry. My jaw set. I was ready. More than ready.

I was a fucking woman scorned, and it was time for him to pay.

Even though I still had a key to the loft on my key ring, I knocked. Besides, I’d left my purse in the car. Just had my phone tucked in my rear pocket in case I needed Rue for back up after all. She’d be at the door in about twenty-eight minutes if I hadn’t already reappeared outside. Hell, knowing her, she wouldn’t even wait that long. She was probably waiting around the corner to stick her ear up to the door once I got inside, despite promising to wait in the car.

Plus, I’d already hit the button on the phone that would record our entire conversation.

Face blank, I looked right at the peephole. After footsteps from inside approached there was a pause, where I assumed he was checking who it was. Then an even longer hesitation, using another precious minute up, before the chain rattled and the door opened.

And he was right there. In front of me.

Smug smirk firmly in place.

He leaned his forearm against the doorframe, his unwelcome gaze raking me from head to toe.

“Sadie.” It was a statement, not a question, and only the faintest hint of surprise slipped through. Almost as if he’d been expecting me.

I didn’t fidget. Didn’t shift uneasily side-to-side. Wasn’t remotely intimidated.

I didn’t return the perusal. Had he gained weight, put on muscle, developed a gut? Didn’t know, didn’t care.

“Asher.” I kept the word short and clipped.

His hair was longer than I remembered. Mussed in a way most girls probably enjoyed. Hell, maybe one
had
just enjoyed it. Two days’ worth of scruff roughened his jawline beneath the twist of his lips.
Lips that had touched every inch of me in the past.

I barely restrained the shudder that thought elicited. Ew. Just . . . ew.

Raising his eyebrows, he pushed the door open the rest of the way and swept his arm out, inviting me inside. With a sneer, I moved past him, careful to keep any part of me from brushing against him in the process.

I stalked into the living room . . . which hadn’t changed a bit, except it was messier than it ever was when I still lived there. And there was a newer, nicer GoPro sitting on the console table.

Bet he was getting a lot of use out of that.

Following me part of the way, he stopped at the breakfast bar that divided the space, perching on one of the stainless-steel industrial stools I’d splurged on after we moved in, his arms crossed at his chest.

“I figured you’d come back at some point,” he started. “But I kind of thought you’d call first.”

A sweet, sweet smile broke my stony façade, and I tucked my arms behind my back, to keep him from seeing my clenched fist. “And what was it you thought I’d be coming back for?”

Running a hand through his messy hair, he chuckled. “Sadie, you can’t deny we were good together. We were fucking great together. Especially in there.” He tipped his head toward the open bedroom door, where I caught a quick glimpse of the unmade bed before whipping my eyes back at him. “I knew once you got over your little snit and got tired of hiding down on the coast with Rue, you’d make your way back. This is your home. Nashville. Here. This loft. Me.”

I blinked at him, hid my shock behind a fake cough. “Tell me again what was so great? The fact that you videotaped me without consent? Shared it with your friends without me knowing? No, wait. Was it the cheating? The lying? Which of those things exactly, Asher?” I rubbed my chin as I thought. “No . . . maybe it was the fact that you uploaded those videos to the internet, again, without my consent, for the whole fucking world to see?”

The longer I spoke, the stiffer his posture became, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He no longer slouched on the stool, but instead stood next to it.

He narrowed his eyes. “I noticed those videos mysteriously disappeared two days ago.”

“Did they?” I shrugged.

“Sadie, I was well on my way to winning that prize money. Did you fuck that up for me?”

Inwardly, I cringed. He never used to speak to me like that. Without respect. Like I was beneath him. A part of me couldn’t help but wonder what I’d done wrong. This was a man that a year ago, I couldn’t wait to marry. Now, I could barely stand to look at him.

I shook my head at him and tsked. “Oh, Asher, I’m pretty sure anything that’s screwed up is your own fault.”

“Those videos were mine, Sadie. Did you really think destroying my stuff would make it go away?” Confidence seeped back into him, his limbs relaxing, arms dangling loosely by his side, one hand stuck into the pocket of his worn jeans.

Conscious on the recording on my phone, I answered carefully. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Did you know the renter’s insurance covered the cost? I reported a break in, and our policy had an extra clause for electronics.” He tapped the side of his head. “I was so glad you insisted we get that added.” Taking a step closer, he taunted. “But you forgot about the cloud. Everything was backed up on the cloud.”

I took a deep breath, sneaking a quick look at the clock. Twenty-one more minutes and this nightmare was over.

But first, I had to know. “Why?”

“Why what?”

I nodded slowly. “We
were
good together. Or at least, I’d thought we were. So why . . . why mess it all up? Was Becca really worth it?”

“Becca? No, she wasn’t. But some of the ones who came before her?” He kept talking but the words washed right over me. In my naivety, I hadn’t considered that he’d cheated on me prior to Becca. How fucking stupid I must have been to ignore all the nights he had to work late. To build our future together, I’d thought.

More like, get his dick wet.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I straightened my spine, remembered why I’d come here.

“You forgot something, too. My permission to use the footage.”

He sneered. “I didn’t need your permission.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

“No? See, Asher, I always was the one of us who was more detail-oriented. Those pesky little things like consent and permission? They don’t just apply to the sex act itself. It also applies to the distribution of any footage. And sharing it like you did? Without telling me? In a way I would never, ever,
ever
fucking approve of?” I paused, savoring the moment. “There’s a name for that.”