I wanted to kick him again.
I wanted to twist his dick until it popped off.
Okay, that wasn’t true. I liked his dick right where it was. But I wasn’t above putting it through the wringer again. I couldn’t hurt him permanently; that would mean I couldn’t use it anymore.
And despite how fucking pissed I was right in this moment, I still loved him. I still wanted him. He just didn’t need to know that.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew I’d forgive him. He was everything to me, and the only thing I wanted for the last seven years was to have him alive. To have him in my life.
Him and our son.
“I hate you!” I snarled.
“No... you don’t,” he wheezed.
No, I don’t.
“Morgan... baby...” he coughed out as he tried to breathe deeply. I felt bad, but I wouldn’t tell him that. He didn’t deserve my sympathy. “Let me... explain.”
“Explain?” I shouted. “Explain what? That you didn’t die? That instead you just decided not to come home?”
Jude rolled over on his back, his knees still pulled up and his hands cradling his balls. He stared at me, and I saw it all on his face. Every emotion. Guilt, fear... love.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before stepping over him and sitting on the couch. I studied him as questions ran through my head.
Why did he leave?
Was it because I lost the baby?
Did his brother know he was alive?
Did King?
“Son of a bitch!” I cursed.
I stormed back to my bedroom and grabbed my phone. Dialing the number as I went back to the front of the house. It rang three times before a gruff voice answered, “This better be fucking important.”
“Did you know?” I asked.
“Morgan?” King asked with a sigh.
“Did. You. Know?”
“Sweetheart, listen,” he pleaded. I heard a woman in the background ask who he was calling sweetheart. He’d always called me that.
The tears came then. He knew. My brother knew, and he didn’t tell me. Sure, he didn’t know he was my brother. But he knew he was my friend.
“Fuck you, King.” I disconnected the call and threw the phone against the wall, watching as it shattered into pieces. My shoulders slumped in irritation.
“You need to leave,” I said as Jude’s phone began to ring.
He pulled the phone from his pocket as he lay on the floor. Placing it against his ear, he grunted, “Yes, I fucking told her, asshole.”
He eyed me from the floor as he tried, unsuccessfully, to sit up.
“Well, currently, I’m lying on the floor with a broken nose and busted balls.”
Jude pulled the phone away from his ear and I heard King laughing boisterously. I turned away and swiped at my cheeks.