“So, you’re back for good, huh?” Brad asks.
I nod. “Seems that way. What do you feel like eating?” I ask, trying to change the topic.
“This way. I’ve got us a table.” He smiles and holds out an arm. Once we’re seated in the restaurant and the waiter has taken our drink orders, Brad stares at me. “Why are you back?”
“This is my home.” I shrug.
“That’s not it. Why now? What happened in New York?” he presses.
I roll my eyes. “Nothing happened. I just wanted a change.”
“I call bullshit! What happened, Jazzy? What happened with that Freddie guy?”
At the mention of my ex’s name, I feel the color drain from my face. My heart beats faster. “It’s over,” I say, trying and failing to keep my voice even.
“Why?”
“He hit me. And I’m not the kind of woman who sticks around to get hit a second time. So I left.” It’s not a lie. Even if it’s not the full truth.
Bradley’s eyes widen. “He what? I’ll kill him.”
At that, I laugh. “Did you forget who my family is, Brad?”
“Right, your dad would have already done that. Good. Are you okay, though?”
His question brings tears to my eyes. I’m not okay. Far from it. I blink, because I will not let these tears fall. “I will be.”
“You will.” He nods. I forgot how much I missed him. I missed home. Maybe moving back here really is what I need.
“You can’t tell him, Brad. Promise me you won’t tell him,” I say.
“Himwho?”
“You know who. Don’t tell him what happened in New York, please.”
“I won’t,” Brad says. “But you know he keeps tabs on you. He’ll find out eventually.”
I did not know that Jake keeps tabs on me.What does that even mean?
Chapter Four
My jaw clenches and my hands curl into fists at my sides as I watch Bradley pick Jazzy up and spin her around. I’m going to fucking kill him, maybe cut his arms off first.
I shake my head at the thought. Only Jazzy brings out the murderer in me. She’s the only one who makes me want to start a war and stain the Strip with the blood of everyone who fucking looks at her. This is why I have to stay away from her, for both our sakes.
Bradley stares directly at the camera and smirks. The asshole knows I’m watching them.
I turn my focus back to Jazzy. She looks good, although thinner than she usually is.Is she not eating properly? Is she sick? Fuck, is that why she’s back? She’s sick?
I pull out my phone and send Bradley a text before I can think better of it.
Me:
Find out why she’s lost weight.
I watch him check his phone as he guides Jazzy into a restaurant.
Bradley: