“He won’t, if you just let me talk to him and—”
“And what? Talk some sense into him? Your sober, clear-headed husband, who has zero anger issues that make him destroy everything without thinking? He’s a junkie. You’re one drag away from his ruining your life forever just because. What were you thinking? Way to mitigate the threat, Birdie.”
“I’ve been married to that asshole for seven years. I know what matters to him the most. I’ll just tell him I’m ready to settle. I’ll set up a meeting to negotiate, which not only will get us to know where he is but also buy us some time, hopefully enough for you to get that app.”
“Smart. It’s all part of the plan, isn’t it? You know what else is smart? The wordusyou keep using now, as if we’ve been in this together all along, as if you didn’t go behind my back and did all that on your own without asking me.”
“If you’d been listening to me, I wouldn’t have—”
“Don’t you dare turn this on me. Everything I do is to protect you.” I step closer and closer until I back her against the window. “And don’t you dare lie to me anymore. We both know your little plan isn’t about Abel. This whole thing has never been about your husband.”
Her breath stutters on my face. “Of course it is. What else?”
“Yeah?” My beautiful liar. “Then I’ll answer him myself and set up a meeting, here in Jacksonville, where the three of us are. Yeah, I managed to track him down and found out where he was staying in the city, by the way.”
“You did?”
“Yes, and his dealer, too. I told you junkies are easy to find.”
“Okay. Great. But…I need my lawyer present, and she’s in Boston.”
“We’ll easily get her via a video conference.” I bend my head and look her straight in the eye. “Then, once I get the app, we’ll go back to Vineyard’s Haven, right away.”
Her lip quivers, and her eyes widen. “But…”
“But what, Birdie?” I challenge. “Tell me.”
She lowers her gaze. “I’m tired, Tristan. My head still hurts. Those pills the doctor in Edgartown gave me before we got here make me sleepy.”
“I’m not leaving until you say it. Until you tell me what you’re really here for, until you tell me how much you want to see him, how much you crave him, your Butterfly Man—”
“—You’re crazy—”
“—until you confess that when I thought you were describing a nightmare, all this time, for you, it was a dream you wished would have come true.”
She tries to push me aside. “You are crazy and completely out of line. Get out of my way.”
I snort. Does she really think she can use strength against me? Swiftly, I collect both of her hands and bind her wrists together in my grip above her head.
“Tristan!”
“You wanna see crazy, Birdie?” My eyes drop to her lips, and then down to her T-shirt. The letters on it have been taunting me since I entered the room. STFUAEYPLAGB. Why the fuck would she wear something like that? Here? Now? “Take it off.”
“Take what off?!”
“Your T-shirt. Off. Now.”
“You really lost it, didn’t you? Let me go, Tristan, or I’ll scream.”
“Will you say Gatsby this time? I bet you will. With me you use your safeword, but with him…”
“Tristan, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong with you?”
You. You are what’s wrong with me. “Scare you? I scoff. My nose nuzzles along the side of her neck, and, fuck, her scent pulls me into a delirium. A spell that disperses anger and spins it into something wild and hungry. It blurs the world at its edges until there’s nothing left, no reason, no sanity, no man. Only her and the soul I’d sell just to make her mine.
“Easy, Mrs. Abel. I’m not telling you to take it off so I can touch you,” I whisper in her ear, “so I can fuck you.” With a hiss, I drag myself away and drop her shaking hands. “If I want to get you out of your shirt, I won’t have to pin you in place and scare or force you to do it, because you’ll be desperate to take it off yourself, and then you’llbegme to STFUAEYPLAGB.”
Cheeks blazing, mouth gaping, eyes sparkling wide, she fixes her clothes and crosses her arms over her chest. “You know what it means? Of course, you do.”