Page 14 of Don't Date Your Ex Best Friend
I helped wide-eyed Emma away from there.
I asked, “You okay?”
She was shaking.
“You didn’t need to punch him.He will press charges against you.”
“I would love to see him try.”
The driver was waiting for me in my Mercedes.I opened the door and said to her, “Get inside.You were clearly waiting for someone to arrive, but I am not letting you wait out here alone.Tell him the address and he will drop you off.”
Her eyes widened, and she shook her head, “I can’t have that, Ethan.I am really thankful for this, but you don’t have to.”
I gave her a firm look and tilted my head to the open car door, “Get inside the car, Emma.I have to be somewhere else, anyway.You need to get home safe and clean up that cut.”
I was surprised when she leaned up and hugged me.I froze when she whispered, “Thank you, Ethan Kane.You’re not as bad as they told me.”
She gave me a brief smile and sat in the comfortable leather seats.I closed the door for her.
I am as bad as they told you.
Running my hand through my hair, I replied to Aretta’s text and told her what to do.I stared out of the window of the taxi and clenched my palm.It still stung from the punch.I don’t know how I lost my control so easily.It washer.She made me lose my control.Even after six years, she still had that power over me.Just a few little words and I turn into someone I hate.
Closing my eyes, I sighed and leaned back in the seat.
The cabbie glanced at me from his rearview mirror, “What has you sighing like that, young man?”
Someone must have added some kind of truth serum to my food when I told him, “Nothing, just remembered someone harassing my ex-girlfriend and I couldn’t do anything about it.”
What the fuck, Ethan?
He nodded.He looked over fifty, small lines of wrinkles etching his face when he frowned.“Ah, that is a sad thing.If she said that to you, then she must have truly loved you.”
“No, yes, maybe,” I paused.“She left me.”
My heartbeat wildly every time I tried to talk about her.My stomach coiled tightly and a small headache was churning in my head.
The cabbie smiled at me through the rearview mirror, a sad smile.“All troubled women do.Must be hard, but at least you have sweet memories of her.”
I smiled sadly, thinking about those memories.Now tainted with nothing but sadness, regret, and guilt.“A lot, actually.We were best friends.”
“Cherish them, young man, and I hope you will find love again,” his words were sincere when he stopped the car at the hotel.He grinned back at me, “I have to go, my wife’s been waiting for me to eat this mean steak she makes.”
“How long have you been married to her?”I asked, nodding at the sweet picture of them together, probably in their twenties, over the dashboard.
“Thirty years and still counting.”
I smiled at him and paid him with a hefty tip.“Take care and thank you for this.”
I didn’t know why I said that.He didn’t ask what I meant by ‘this’ because my nerves snaked in my body, and as soon as I said it, I left the car.I exhaled sharply and checked the time.Five minutes left.
Telling myself that this was what I needed, I went to the corridor of the corner room on the eighth floor.It was time.But I waited for two more minutes, just playing with her mind.
I needed this right now.I needed to gain control back.I craved it like a druggie who promised it was his last dose but still went back for more.
Turning the knob, I stepped inside.
Good, she had obeyed to keep it unlocked.I closed the door behind me with a slam and her body gave a small shudder.I smiled and stepped inside the suite, her naked body glinting in the moonlight as she stayed still.Bent over the balcony with her hands holding the railings.
