Ready or Not (Ready #4)(37)

He’d made it halfway out the door before I made him turn around.

I ignored the rolling laughter that accompanied him back into my office.

~Liv~

I had just put my keys down on the counter, contemplating whether or not to grab a snack before starting dinner, when the doorbell rang. I looked over at the microwave and double-checked the time.

Jackson and Noah weren’t supposed to be here for an hour.

Since I had walked away in the middle of the night, nearly naked, we’d been nearly inseparable. Meals were almost always shared in the evenings, and weekends were already being planned in advance.

I’d never thought long-term when dating someone. Honestly, I normally never thought past the meal I was ordering or the outfit I was picking out of my closet. Dating was casual and fun, but that was always the gist of it—nothing more, nothing less.

Had Mia been right? Had I really been dating all the wrong men on purpose?

I was guessing dating was different for the majority of others. The rest of the world surely felt something a bit deeper when becoming romantically involved with someone they were attracted to.

I didn’t consider myself a shallow person—quite the opposite in fact.

Could I really have been self-sabotaging my love life—intentionally dating men I knew I’d never want to keep so that I’d never settle down?

How did I miss that?

My master’s degree had definitely not prepared me for how to evaluate my own problems.

Moving swiftly, I headed for the door to greet my mystery visitor.

I came face-to-face with Victor.

What the hell?

“Hi, Victor. What are you doing here?” I asked, not even attempting to mask the rudeness in my tone.

“We need to talk, Olivia,” he demanded, his clipped tone nearly slapping me in the face.

Why did I date this guy?

“It’s Liv, remember? And I thought we already discussed everything.”

He pushed past me, not bothering to wait for an invitation. The strong stench of alcohol accompanied him, and I felt unease starting to take root in my gut.

“You talked, Liv, and I listened. It’s my turn now.” His accent was thicker, hinting at just how angry he was with me.

“Look,” I said, turning to face him, “I had a good time with you, Victor, but it was time to move on.”

He laughed, cold and hollow. “Move on with whom?”

“I don’t really see how any of that is your business.”

His eyes flared with ire as he stalked forward. I took several steps backward until I felt the doorknob wedging deep into my back. He continued, his focus locked on me, until I was pressed against the door by his immovable hard body.

During the few weeks I’d dated Victor, I’d never feared him. He’d been intense and possessive, but I’d chalked those specific personality traits up to his nationality. Having been raised in a completely opposite part of the world, I couldn’t fault him for being different. But this new Victor was beyond basic cultural variations.

In that moment, I was scared beyond reason.

“Victor, please,” I whimpered, not knowing what I was asking for but knowing I needed to do something, anything.

“Please what?” His voice was deep and boiling with rage.

“Please stop,” I begged. “You said you wanted to talk, so let’s talk.”

“No,” he growled. “I like this position much better. Why are you so frightened, Olivia? It’s not like we haven’t done this before.” His hand curved around my waist and gripped it hard. “Or are you afraid your boyfriend might find out?”

“Her boyfriend might kick your ass and toss it in jail,” a familiar voice said.

I looked up to find Jackson grabbing Victor by the neck before pulling him off me and throwing him to the floor. I felt air rush into my lungs for the first time in minutes as I watched Jackson knock Victor out with one blow.

It’s over.

My knees gave way, and my body hit the floor, trembling everywhere.

“Liv, sweetheart,” Jackson called out.

His safe warm arms wrapped around me, and I was lifted into his embrace.

“I’m going to move you to the living room and call the police.” His hand smoothed over my face, through my hair down my shoulder. “Did he hurt you?” he asked softly.

“No,” I managed to say.

He gently laid me down onto the sofa and ever so carefully kissed my forehead before wrapping me in a throw blanket. Keeping one eye on the entryway where Victor was sprawled out on the floor and the other on me, he pulled out his phone and called the police.

Five minutes later, uniformed men roused Victor back into consciousness and threw him in the back of a cop car. Jackson and I each gave statements before the police officers left, and after what seemed like forever, the house was once again silent.

Jackson returned to the couch after locking the door. “I don’t want you to stay here tonight,” he said gently.

“Okay,” I agreed.

I really didn’t want to be alone.

He disappeared for a few minutes and returned with a bag. “I didn’t know quite what you needed, so I guessed. If you need anything else, I can run back over and get it,” he offered.

“I just need you,” I confessed.

“That I can do.”