Jagged (Colorado Mountain #5)(55)
“Right, it’s good you brought that up because I should make that clear. These aren’t threats, Greg. When you pull that shit, it guts her. I’m not gonna let you do that and I’ll find a way to make sure you stop. The way I’d prefer it to be is if you’d give the tiniest f**kin’ shit about her and not make me do that because I got no problem f**kin’ you up, but if I gotta go outta my way and lay the hurt on you that would f**k her up. Now are you followin’ me?”
“It guts her?” he asked quietly.
“I don’t know you so I don’t know if you sound happy because you can do that to her or pissed at yourself you’re doin’ it to her,” Reece told him.
“I’m not happy I’m hurting, Zara. God,” he clipped.
“Then stop doin’ it,” Reece returned.
This was again met with silence.
“I gotta go lay a different kind of hurt on Zara now, man, so tell me this was a productive conversation so I can get that over with for her,” Reece prompted when the silence stretched on too long.
“I never wanted things to get ugly between us,” Greg shared.
“You don’t want that, stop doin’ what you’re doin’,” Reece advised.
“It was just a shock, seeing her with you last night.”
“I get that. So does she. Doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t play that right.”
“I didn’t think. I guess I was mad.”
Jesus. What kind of guy was this guy?
“I’m sensin’ we’re comin’ to a positive end to this discussion so I don’t wanna piss you off, but I’m not your counselor. I’m your ex-wife’s man. You need to process shit, do it with one of your boys. I got shit to do.”
“Right, that was… I’m being…” He trailed off and before Reece could end this and get on with his shit day, Greg kept going. “I… this is weird to have to ask but, I mean, I probably should but, later, I’d like to call her. About Xenia.”
“Give it time. I’m lettin’ her sleep until she wakes up. Then I’ll lay that on her.”
“All right.”
It was time to end this.
“Thanks for givin’ a shit, Greg, now I gotta go,” Reece stated.
“Of course. Right. I’ll, um… call her later.”
“Fantastic,” Reece muttered, trying to squeeze the sarcasm out of his voice and hearing he failed. “Later.”
“Later,” Reece heard before he disconnected, tossed his phone on his dash, started his truck, and headed home.
Chapter Eleven
Worthy of You
I watched as the coffee mug smash against the wall, coffee splashing everywhere.
Then I ran straight to the door of the kitchen.
I didn’t get there.
An arm caught me at my belly, my breath went out of me in a whoosh, and I found myself going backward.
Ham pinned me against the counter, his front tight to mine, his hands on the counter on either side of me, his head tipped deep to me, his face full of pain.
For me.
“Calm down, baby,” he whispered.
“My sister’s dead,” I whispered back.
“Stick with me, cookie.”
“My sister’s dead,” I repeated.
“Zara. Honey. Stick with me.”
“My sister’s dead!” I shrieked, watched him wince, and dissolved into body-wracking, throat-burning, uncontrollable tears.
Ham’s arms closed around me.
My legs gave out. I slid down his front and fell to the floor.
Ham came with me, shifting to his ass. His legs spread and cocked at the knees, he pulled me between them, my chest against his. He wrapped one of his arms around me tight. His other hand was in my hair, forcing my face into his neck.
I wrapped both of my arms around him, held strong, and sobbed.
I’d known this day would come. In the beginning I waited, hoping it would come. Last night I understood deep down that it actually had come.
Even so, I was totally unprepared for it.
Ham held me close for a long time and when my tears went from wild and uncontrolled to the kind that settled in for a long time, quieter and punctuated by hiccoughs, he moved. Getting to his feet and taking me with him, he lifted me cradled in his arms and carried me to the living room.
He sat on the couch and then stretched out, arranging me on top of him, all the while holding me close.
We settled silently and I focused on something else and that something else didn’t make the tears go away.
“My nephew really lives with my aunt Wilona?” I asked.
“It’s true, darlin’.”
“My aunt is a bitch,” I told him.
Ham had no response.
“He’s been there for nine years.”
Again no response from Ham.
“My dad’s such a dick,” I shared.
That got a response.
“That he is, cookie.”
I pulled in a deep breath through my nose and on the exhale relaxed into him.
“I don’t believe this,” I whispered.
“I don’t either, baby,” Ham whispered back.
I put a hand in the couch at the back, lifted up, and used my other hand to swipe at my face as I looked down at him.