Page 3 of Chasing Hope

4247.

Plus, it was the only thing pulling me back from a cliff of rage when my thoughts veered into the territory of how Caleb said she was hysterical. In between saying the four-digit code to calm medown, my imagination switched between conjuring up images of Evie in a puddle of tears and all the ways I want to hurt the bastard who caused her pain.

Breaking his nose.

Cutting off his balls—that one made me gag a little.

Taking a bat to said balls—this one made the corner of my lips twitch.

Maybe I could also take the photos of him and the coworker and email them anonymously to his boss. I researched the financial company he works for; they have a strict no-fraternization rule. At the idea, a rare smile begins to form on my lips.

I’m about to savor the warmth and anticipation of getting him fired but that quickly vanishes as the parking garage gate finally opens and I drive my car underground to find Evie, mascara running down her cheeks, hair and clothes in disarray. She walks with purpose, her strides clipped, a baseball bat dangling from her hand.

My car comes to a screeching halt, my jaw practically unhinging as I watch her lift the bat, a scream of pure fury leaving her as she brings the baseball bat down on what used to be a very nice, luxurious, black BMW.

Chapter 2

Evie

DICKWAD

Evie come on

it doesn’t have to be like this

EVIE

stop texting me and go put your tongue down Felicity’s throat again

DICKWAD

just come upstairs and be civil

EVIE

take your civility and shove it up your ass

and while you’re at it swallow a cheese grater

Rage like I’ve never felt before consumes my very being, the hot sting of betrayal fueling my arms as I repeatedly bring the baseball bat down on Carter’s car. I haven’t stopped screaming since I started. I don’t even care how much trouble I get in. Taking a bat to his car is better than running upstairs and smashing it against them.

“They fucking know!” I scream.

Theyknow.

A growl that sounds more animal than human escapes me as I spin on my heel and swing the baseball bat back before screaming once more and bringing it down onhercar. “Two-facedwhore!”

My deluded, crappy, lazy, unhygienic ex? I expected this from him, a part of me waiting for him to finally cross that physical line with his coworker, the one I knew from the beginning that I had a reason to worry about despite him saying I didn’t.

ThatI was prepared for.

So many times, I built myself up to dump his pathetic, manipulating, gaslighting, man-child ass, but then something would happen. A birthday, a holiday, Christmas, a loved one passing. There was always fuckingsomethingtethering me to him.

The moment I saw him in our bed fucking her, the first thing I felt was relief. Two years with someone and all I felt in that moment was liberation. I was free. This was too big for him to try and gaslight me. I saw with my own eyes that he was cheating. He couldn’t spin this on me. Couldn’t hurt me and then end up manipulating me to the point whereIwas the one apologizing for hurtinghisfeelings because I expressed that he had upset me.

Then I saw who he was fucking.

Andeverythingchanged.