“Veronica and I aren’t together. We broke up nearly two years ago when I came home from a fucking work trip to find her in my bed with another man,” I deadpanned, delivering the heavy blow to her without a care or thought about the damage it would cause. “If you would take just even half a fucking second to honor my boundaries, perhaps I would’ve told you. But you don’t have a shred of respect for me, the pain Dad caused me, or the healing I still have to do.”
A wretched sound left my little sister, cutting me deep. “I—”
“Instead of chasing the family Dad destroyed, how about you focus on building yours, huh?”
“Hayes—”
“My girlfriend came into my apartment to find my ex in my bedroom,” I growled.
“Girlfriend? You have—”
“You would’ve known that too if you weren’t too busy trying to suffocate me with the past, Dela.”
“Please let me speak!” she cried.
“No,” I replied, grabbing my keys. “I need to go fix the damage you fucking caused. I’ll call you when I’m ready. Until then. Do not call me. We clear on that?”
There was a long pause. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” I hung up, met Gray in the hall, debriefed him, and headed to my Margo.
Ten minutes later, the elevator doors dinged open and I prowled down the hallway. The heavy, lingering scent of Veronica’s perfume was in the air, and hatred spread through my body like the plague. I felt violated, betrayed by my own sister, but I couldn’t focus on the sting of that. Right now, I needed to make sure Margo was okay. I opened my front door, dropped my keys, and called her name.
“She’s in the shower,” Ash drawled as I came into the living area, finding him on the couch, tablet in his lap, the highlights from the last Seahawks game on my TV.
My eyes scanned the apartment, searching for any signs of Veronica, anything she might’ve left as a part of her sick game.
“Already swept over the place,” Ash told me, looking up from his screen. “You’re good.”
Shoulders relaxing, I nodded before pinching the bridge of my nose. “Jesus Christ,” I muttered.
“Veronica is at the airport.”
My head snapped up. “What?”
Ash gave me a smirk.
“You put a fucking tracker on her?” I pushed, stepping forward.
“Absolutely, I did,” he replied, confident. “There’s no fucking way I was letting her leave without it. She has no business being here.”
“And when she finds that little tracker and elects to sue Red Snake?”
“Then she’ll have to explain to the judge why she lied about who she was to your doorman and broke into your apartment.”
I heard the shower shut off and my head turned in that direction.
Ash, being Ash, took the silent hint. “I’m off,” he said, letting out an exasperated groan as he rose up from my couch. “You need to replace that, by the way. It’s a fucking rock.”
I glared at him, thinking about Margo’s green couch, hating the fact it was growing on me. It was definitely better than the black leather one Ash was currently grumbling about.
“Get out,” I ordered, jerking my head to the front door.
“I’m gone.”
When I came into the bathroom, Margo’s jasmine scent invaded me. I welcomed it with open arms, the fresh scentstilling the panic and anger in my soul. The steam clung to the mirror and glass door of the shower. I stayed by the door, watching her through the humidity as she stepped out with my white towel wrapped around herself. Her hips were too wide for it, leaving a sliver of her tattooed skin revealed. She didn’t look at me as she said, “Veronica is exactly what I expected.”
I folded my arms over my chest, my shoulder hitting the doorjamb, remaining quiet as she crossed the bathroom and leaned over the countertop, wiping the fog off the mirror. Her face was completely healed, her dark hair clinging to her neck and back, mossy eyes bright. Despite the afternoon she’d had, her body was relaxed, her tone calm.