Burned(29)

“Collin, he can’t breathe!”
Finnley’s strangled cry forces its way into my conscience and I finally ease up, pushing my forearm into this throat one last time before backing away. Jordan’s hands immediately wrap around his neck as he bends over, coughing and sputtering pathetically like a Goddamn *.
When he can finally breathe normally again, he stands up to his full height, puffs out his chest and glares at me, his nostrils flaring like an angry bull. I can tell he’s thinking about charging, that he’d like nothing better than to punch me in the face. I can see it in the way his chest heaves and his hands clench and unclench into fists at his sides. Aside from the tattoos covering both of his arms from wrists to shoulders and the strung-out look in his eyes, he looks like the same punk from high school. He’s taller and has a few more muscles, but I can still wipe the floor with his ass. I silently dare him to punch me. Outside of taking his wife back up to their bedroom and f*cking her brains out, I can’t think of anything I’d love more than to put him on his ass. I’ve always hated him, knowing he poached what should have been mine. I’ve spent many years wishing I could be alone in a room with him just once so I could show him who the better man is.
“I can’t believe you would do this to me,” he finally says, staring right at me, but I know his words are for Finnley.
He finally looks away from me to Finnley. I can feel the heat of her body right behind me. I can smell her skin and I can hear her breath stutter with every word he speaks, but I can’t bring myself to turn around. I refuse to see the look of anguish and regret on her face that I’m sure he’s putting there.
“Seventeen years, Finn. Seventeen years and you’re going to throw it all away by sleeping with him?” Jordan asks in disgust.
The fact I just came running downstairs from the bedroom and she’s standing here in nothing but a robe makes what happened between us pretty obvious. She doesn’t say a word to confirm or deny it, but even Jordan isn’t that stupid. I want her to choose me, to tell him that even though she married him, it’s always been me. I want her to tell him to leave and pick me. Pick me, dammit!
“Did you f*ck him in my bed?”
I take a step in Jordan’s direction and once again, Finnley’s hand comes out and grips onto my shoulder.
“Collin, you need to go. Please, just go.”
She practically sobs the words and my heart drops all the way down to my feet, so completely removed from my chest that I could drop it on the floor and kick it across the room.
I’m such a f*cking idiot.
“I’m not leaving you alone with him.”
I speak my words with conviction even though I want nothing more than to run out of here with my tail between my legs like a wounded f*cking puppy. I feel like a Goddamn kicked puppy and I have to fight the urge to rub my sternum to ease the pain in my chest. Fuck, this woman is lethal. No matter how much it hurts, though, I will NOT leave her alone and let him hurt her again.
“Fuck you! She’s my wife and this is our house!” Jordan argues.
Finnley steps between us, placing a hand in the center of my chest to push me away from Jordan, and I finally see her face. Just like I assumed, she looks beaten down with guilt and sadness.
“Collin, please. I can handle this; it’s fine. I just need you to leave,” she tells me softly.
I can’t even stand to look at her right now, so I turn away from her and leave the house without another word.
As I drive away, I pray to God that I don’t regret leaving her alone with him. Even though I’m pissed and I’m hurt, I would never want something bad to happen to her. I would rather die than even think about any harm coming to her, no matter how broken I feel right now.