Luck of the Devil (The Forge Trilogy #2)(48)

49





Forge





When she says she’s going to disappear and never be found, it’s like being stabbed in the chest.

I knew I was going to lose her. I knew that from the beginning. But now, facing the reality of it, I can’t let that happen.

I shove my hands in my pockets and try to rein in my temper. I fail miserably.

“What the fuck are you talking about? You’re not going anywhere. Much less Prague to play some fucking grand prix.”

She stalks toward me looking like a warrior princess prepared to do battle with her bare hands. “Don’t think for one second that you can stop me. This isn’t fucking Alcatraz. You’re not my warden. I’m leaving, and I’m never coming back.”

A million emotions burst through me like flickering flames, but I smother them all with ice—except the rage. That, I grip with both hands and let fly.

“Try to leave. I. Fucking. Dare. You.” I spit out each word like a curse and round the desk to tower over her.

I will fucking intimidate her into following orders if I have to. I won’t fuck around with her safety.

The rage turns icy as I consider one last threat. My tone drops low and quiet, just to make sure she understands. “If you ask Bastien to come save you, I swear to Christ, I will kill him with my bare fucking hands.”

Indy’s mouth drops open and her blue eyes widen with shock. “You think I asked him to come here last time? Don’t you get it? I hate him! He’s the last person I’d ask for help.” She says it so convincingly, but history doesn’t lie.

My temper jumps its chain.

“You sure as fuck didn’t waste any time running to him for help before. Right after you took my check for a million dollars on the promise that you would never go near him again.”

Indy’s nostrils flare, and she gives me a mutinous look. “I didn’t have a choice! And I didn’t care about you then.”

Her admission, almost certainly unintentional, stops me cold.

“What did you say?”

Indy’s lips clamp together and she backs away, but she can’t take back what she said. I fucking heard it.

She didn’t care about me then. Which means . . . she does now.

“What did you say?” I repeat my question and she shakes her head, sending loose waves of blond hair swinging over her shoulder.

“It doesn’t matter. We made a bargain. You close your deal and you give me my goddamned divorce. Until then, I don’t want to see you or speak to you if you’re going to treat me like a child at best or a prisoner at worst.”

She spins on bare feet and races out of my office, a sob breaking from her lips before she slams the door behind her.

“Fuck!” I grab the chair she was sitting in and launch it across the room. The wood cracks when it hits the wall, splintering apart and leaving a mark.

Footsteps come pounding down the hallway, and someone hammers on my office door.

“Sir, is everything okay?” It’s Dorsey.

Instead of grabbing the other chair like I want, I stride to the door and yank it open. With my hands clenched into fists and my lungs heaving, I bite out an order.

“Tell everyone that my wife doesn’t leave this fucking island, and if she does, you’re all fucking fired. Every single one of you. Understood?”

Dorsey stumbles back a step as she nods. “Yes, sir. Understood, sir.”

I slam my office door hard enough to crack the wood, then grab the back of my neck with both hands before letting out an enraged roar.





50





India





My duffel bag is packed with what little stuff my sister brought, and I’m dressed and ready to get the fuck off this godforsaken rock.

I don’t care what Forge says; he can’t keep me here. I will steal a boat or stow away or do whatever I have to do. Hell, if I get desperate enough, I’ll steal a dry bag and a life vest and dog-paddle myself to shore.

I’m going through my mental list of who I could call that owns a boat when my phone rings in the pocket of my robe. I whip it out and stare down at the screen.

Summer.

“Please tell me there’s no more bad news,” I say in lieu of a greeting.

“Whoa. You sound pissed. On the rag?”

I roll my eyes at her predictable response to me being upset. “No, but I need a fucking rescue from this island. Forge told me I’m not allowed to leave.”

Summer chuckles, and I want to shake her for not taking me seriously. “Why won’t he let you leave?”

“He’s concerned for my safety,” I tell her as I grab a stray pair of panties hanging out of a drawer.

“Well, that sounds kind of sweet.”

“Don’t even try to take his side. I’ll hang up so quick, you won’t have a chance to say a single word. Which one of your friends has a boat? Can you call in a favor?” My tone sharpens, and my sister’s changes accordingly.

“Okay, okay. We need a boat to come get you. Got it.”

Then I remember I didn’t call Summer. She called me. “Why did you call? Is something wrong?”

“Not exactly wrong . . .”