Soaked (The Water's Edge #2) (16 page)

He snorted, and made a rolling gesture with his finger, telling me to get on with it.

“See, here in the fine state of Tennessee, my
home
as you pointed out earlier, they call that revenge porn.” He froze, and I continued. “And it’s a felony.”

I stood tall in my moment of justice. He may have won a couple major battles along the way, but this, this was a conclusive victory.

“Hey, Asher?” He looked pale, eyes darting around the room, but they moved back to my face when I said his name. “Touchdown!” I whispered the word he used to shout when he emptied himself between my legs and raised my arms like goalposts before heading back toward the front door.

No reason to stay any longer.

Oh, except . . .

“Did I mention the warrant has already been issued? And the police are on their way now?” I shrugged, the very picture of innocence. God bless Rue. With her family’s connections, we were able to find a topnotch lawyer who could expedite the warrant and who had a cop friend willing to show up to arrest Asher . . . in seventeen minutes. Hopefully, he wouldn’t try anything stupid, like disappearing in the next few minutes. But even if he did, with an active warrant out in his name, it wouldn’t be long before he was apprehended.

He lunged toward me, his fingers wrapping around my upper arm. “You won’t get away with this, you fucking slut. Do you know who my dad is? There’s no way the charges will stick.”

I pried his fingers from my arm. “Guess we’ll find out.” Having gotten what I needed, I reached behind me to end the recording.

With a roar, he turned and punched the wall next to the door, his fist sailing deep through the painted drywall.

The door flew open in the same moment, a reaction from his punch I assumed, the vibration undoing the latch.

Except it was the man who haunted my all my waking thoughts that filled the opening, shoulders hunched, hands clenched, and black fury in his piercing glare.

WITH A GUTTURAL
roar, West charged, catching Asher in the belly with his shoulder and driving him backwards until they both tumbled over the couch. Asher’s pained cry lingered until they landed in a heap on the other side.

Shock rooted me in place, my hand covering my mouth as I gaped.

Where did West come from?

Thuds and thunks and grunts echoed off the tall ceiling, then a loud crack sounded as the wooden coffee table fell victim to the scuffle.

Rue slipped inside the partially open front door, a satisfied grin stretching across her cheeks. When she reached me, she sucked in a breath, reaching out to softly touch my upper arm with her fingertips, catching my attention. I glanced down. The red imprint of Asher’s hand stood out against my tan.

“Did he hurt you?” she demanded.

Everything was happening so fast, my mind was spinning. Who cared about my arm? West was here, in Tennessee?

There was a sudden pause in activity across the room, before West bit out, his voice more savage than I’d ever heard, “You laid a hand on my girl?”

Asher squeaked out a garbled response. Something that sounded like a denial mixed in with, “Who
are
you?”

The sickening crunch of bone breaking split the air and made me wince.

“Who am I? WHO AM I?” West’s arm rained down punches, although I couldn’t see Asher from where I stood huddled in the entryway with Rue. “I’m the man who
loves
her. Who will protect her from scum like you who dare to even look at her the wrong way. I’m the guy who will never let you get near her again.”

I scooted closer, unsure what exactly I’d see. My brain was still trying to wrap itself around the fact that West was in my old loft, battling . . . for me. Another one of the walls around my heart crumbled and fell. He wouldn’t be here if he didn’t care about me. Right? I bit my lip, wondering if he could kick Asher’s ass without getting himself injured in the process. A small, selfish part of me wanted to see that happen. Have Asher know what it was like to feel helpless, hurt, and embarrassed. With no pride left.

A blur of movement jolted me back to the melee in front of me, where both men grappled for the upper hand.

While West was brawnier than Asher, Asher had a couple inches on West, and he was bucking and twisting for all he was worth to free himself from the onslaught of a furious West Montgomery.

The man who still made my heart beat faster at just the sight of him.

Asher got in a solid jab to West’s gut, West’s breath whooshing out of him, followed up by a head butt that left them both momentarily dazed.

My stomach clenched when West wobbled, and a cry escaped my throat. I couldn’t bear the thought of him getting hurt, of it being my fault.

West shook his head, rubbed his eyes, then landed a hard right hook to Asher’s temple.

“How does it feel,” Asher rasped, still running his mouth even as he lay sprawled and bleeding on the floor, “having my leftovers?”

“Oh, fuck no, he did not just say that,” Rue hissed, darting in and stomping on Asher’s ankle with her very tall, very sharp heel at the same time West cursed and put his hands around Asher’s throat and started to squeeze.

When Asher’s face turned a mottled purple and I started to worry West might not let go, I reached out for the back of West’s shirt, fisting the fabric and trying to dislodge him from my dumbfuck ex who didn’t know when to shut the hell up.

“Sadie.” Rue pointed at the clock on her phone. “We’ve got eight minutes.”

“Shit.” I yanked hard twice on the back of his shirt before West glanced my way, his eyes glazed and unfocused. “Hey, we gotta go. The cops are gonna be here soon.”

And the last thing I wanted was
both
of them getting hauled off in handcuffs.

West’s face contorted as he straddled Asher, muscles bunching as he relaxed his grip only to slam blow after blow into whatever part of Asher he could reach. Blood covered Asher’s face, his nose alarmingly crooked, and he tried in vain to block the incoming shots with his arms. He struggled to return a punch or two, until one lucky jab made it through to catch West high on the cheek, forcing West’s head around to me.

I reached my hand in his direction again, tugging the torn sleeve of his T-Shirt. “West . . . West, we gotta go,” I urged, real fear creeping into my voice the longer this dragged on. “You’ve got to get up; the cops will be here any minute to arrest him.”

This was not part of the plan. I was supposed to get in, say my piece, and get out, and let the police take out the piece of trash I’d wanted to marry a year ago. While there was something innately satisfying watching Asshole get beat up by West, it was a major deviation in a tightly scheduled timeline.

“Just wanted to make sure his going away party was fucking festive,” West ground out, landing two more hits before lurching to his feet. Chest heaving with exertion, he stumbled in my direction.

“Where . . .” I faltered. “How did you . . .” I didn’t even know what to ask him first.

Rue slipped her hand in the crook of my elbow and started pulling me toward the door. “Not the place for a reunion, guys. C’mon, let’s go.”

I followed her blindly, not taking my eyes off the spectacle of West Montgomery in full warrior mode. His eyes wild and dilated, they ran over every inch of me, frantic as they drank me up, until he saw the angry red handprint on my bicep.

West’s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits and the muscle in his jaw flexed as he ground his molars. He turned back one last time and bent over Asher, who was cupping his nose protectively as West loomed over him. Reaching down, he caught Asher’s family jewels in his big hand, then pulled and twisted in a way that drained any remaining blood from Asher’s face and had a strangled sound escaping his battered throat. “Keep your balls locked up until you learn how to use them properly, douche bag.” West spat in his direction, a final insult, before stalking after me.

Scooping up my hand with his, gripping my fingers so tight I winced, he hurried me out of the building behind Rue. West was pulling me resolutely down the sidewalk when I realized she had stopped at the entrance.

“Wait!” I put a hand on his shoulder, and he stopped in his tracks, swiveling his head back toward me. “Rue?”

She waved us off. “Go on, get him out of here. I want to see Asshole getting put in the back of the police cruiser. Make sure there are no loose ends here.”

I hesitated, knowing that was my job, not hers, but she rolled her eyes and pointed at West. “Him! Get him out of here and take care of
him!
”

Mouthing
thank you
to her, I let West haul me down the sidewalk, his stance rigid, and his grip unrelenting.

When we’d turned the corner and reached his truck—the big, shiny dually—I finally yanked my hand free of his as he opened the passenger door.

“Hold on a second, let go. I didn’t just confront one man who bullied me only to be manhandled by another.” I flexed my bloodless fingers, and shook my wrist to regain circulation.

West turned his stormy gaze on me and crowded me against the open door of his truck with his body. He reached for me so fast I flinched instinctively, jerking my head back. Taking in my reaction, his eyes softened, and when he raised his hands again, the motion was slow and measured, his touch gentle as he framed my face and rubbed his thumb along the slope of my cheek.

He took a deep breath, his chest shuddering as he exhaled, and pressed his forehead against mine, his fingers slipping to the back of my neck.

“I. Would. Never. Hurt. You.” He forced each word out through clenched teeth, his shoulders still tense, despite the careful way his calloused fingers tangled in my hair until he cradled the back of my head.

I curled my fingers around his wrists.

“You’ve already hurt me more than he ever could.”

Snatching his hands back, he recoiled as if I’d struck him. “
What?
”

“Asher.” I nodded toward the building around the corner. “By the time I found that shit he’d posted online, he didn’t have the power to hurt me where it mattered most.” I touched my chest. “
He
embarrassed me. He used me. He took what wasn’t his to share and gave it to everyone. Destroyed my trust. Sent me running from my home. I thought he broke my heart.” West growled, but I continued, my leftover adrenaline fueling my own temper. “But you . . . you worked your way under my skin. Made me feel things he never made me feel. And when I realized I—” My voice cracked and I tried again. “When I realized I loved you, it was different. It was more. It was . . . better. Bigger. More intense than anything I’d ever felt for him. And then to find another woman—to find
her
—in your arms? That hurt a thousand times more than this shit here in Nashville ever will.”

Straightening my spine, I stood tall as I admitted my truth and revealed my weakness. I had nothing to be ashamed of.

With either man.

As he took in my words, West deflated in front of my eyes. Wrapping me in his arms, he captured me in a loose embrace. I stood stiffly, not returning the sentiment. The warm breath from his pained sigh brushed across the sensitive shell of my ear. Ignoring my lack of response, he nuzzled into my neck, his lips hot as they skimmed my throat. I couldn’t help the shiver that went down my spine, or the way my pulse skipped a beat before throbbing under his searching mouth.

His voice rumbled across my skin. “You scared the shit out of me—when Rue told me you were in there alone. That you didn’t wait for the cops. Fuck, Sadie. I was about to come out of my skin.”

Pressing my hands against his chest to put some distance between us, I narrowed my eyes. “See, here’s the thing. When you realize you can’t trust men, you learn you have to take care of the shit in your life yourself. So I did. And everything was handled just fine and dandy before you blew in there and started throwing your fists around like a Neanderthal.”

“A Neanderthal, huh?” A thread of annoyance tinged his response, and his arms fell back to his sides, although he didn’t step back, staying firmly planted inches in front of me.

Silence fell between us as I mentally rewound the last hour and tried to process his appearance in Nashville and what it meant.

“Wait—Rue . . . she knew you were coming? You were already here when we talked last night?” I cocked my head to the side. “The picture of the dog?”

“It was an old one I had saved on my phone.” He winced at the admission before curving his hand around my hip and squeezing. “I meant every word of that text though. You belong in my bed. And that big hound has been the only one to share it with me since you left.” He sucked in a breath. “I . . . heard what happened. Yesterday morning, I heard the rumor and called Rue, asking if I could help. I wanted to be here.” He hesitated a moment before finishing. “In case you needed me.”

“So why didn’t you say something to
me?
On the phone last night? Why didn’t you ask
me
what I wanted instead of just assuming?”

“You haven’t been answering any of my calls!” The accusation flew from his mouth with an intensity that startled me. He took a step back, ran a hand through his hair, and gripped the back of his neck, cursing. He wouldn’t meet my eyes, and his voice was so soft I barely heard him. “And I didn’t want to give you a chance to say no.”