Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
I had one thing. One fucking thing that was my own, and he was about to take it from me.
Santori reached into his pocket, pulled out his own cell phone, and swiped his thumb across the screen. I didn’t want to look. The thought of seeing Jamie making love to someone else filled me with dread so profound, I was already having the telltale palpitations of an anxiety attack. Over and over, my heart seemed to freefall from my chest— the same sensation of jumping a hill in your car, only followed by a tickle that rides up your esophagus and forces out a little cough.
But there was still a chance it wasn’t true. Santori couldn’t be trusted. He would lie and he would bluff, both without remorse, and unfortunately he had no reliable tells. Even with my knack for reading physical cues, I’d never been able to read him with any consistency. I’d seen him tell the truth with his eyes averted, and I’d seen him lie with a fucking halo over his head. I searched his face anyway, and hated that he saw me searching. He could read me just as well.
He knew I’d have to ask to see the pictures, because I had to know for sure he wasn’t bluffing. I silently cursed the little cough that gave away my anxiety as I reached out for his phone. “Show me.”
He hesitated, shoulders slumping almost imperceptibly as he glanced from the phone to my face a couple of times.
My heart soared. I had him. I’d called his bluff.
“You don’t have any pictures, because he hasn’t cheated,” I said, relief flooding my system. For the first time since Santori had entered my apartment, I felt myself relaxing.
He licked his lips, met my eyes, then flipped his phone around for me to see. On the screen was undeniable proof. It was a photo of Jamie kissing another guy up against a black Porsche. The guy was young, blond and hot, and he had his arms draped possessively over Jamie’s shoulders. Goddammit, the fucker was claiming my boyfriend right out from under me. Rage took the place of nausea as I stared at that picture, memorizing the guy’s features— and his tag number.
Was this the guy who had called me on the phone? If so, Jamie had lied when he’d said nothing had happened and that they were just friends.
“It’s just a kiss,” I managed to say, trying to save face in front of Santori, hoping that was all the evidence he had.
In answer, he swiped the screen again. The photo was replaced by one taken from outside the window of a bedroom. Jamie was sitting on a bed, and the blond guy was pulling Jamie’s shirt off. It was one of the shirts I’d bought him. The blue one. My favorite.
My vision blurred, and after a moment I was no longer seeing the image on the screen. I had revenge fantasies playing out in high definition behind my eyes.
My busted ego wanted nothing more than to fly down to Georgia and take care of business, but I had to fight in less than twenty-four hours. Why did Santori have to pull this shit tonight of all nights? Couldn’t he have waited until after the fight so I didn’t have to go into the octagon all worked up? But I already knew the answer to that question. It was strategic. He’d done it on purpose, because he knew exactly how to manipulate me to get what he wanted. In this case, his desire was twofold. He wanted a UFC win, and he wanted Jamie out of the picture for good.
And he may have succeeded at both.
“Jamie did well for himself, don’t you think?” he said. “The new boyfriend is rich and good-looking. But you shouldn’t feel too bad. You must have spoiled the little gold digger, because according to Aldo, he’s got quite an appetite for the rough stuff.”
“Shut your fucking mouth!” I plowed into Santori with my full weight, running him backward until his back slammed hard against the wall. I wrapped my hand around his throat and squeezed, thrilling at the fragility of his trachea as it bowed within my grasp. “You think you can just reach in and finger fuck my soul anytime you feel like it? I should put you out of your misery right now, you sadistic prick.”
“Takes one to know one,” he rasped. And I heard the click and felt the bite of cold metal as he pressed the muzzle of a gun hard into my belly.
CHAPTER 16
(JAMIE)
“You watching the fight?” Braden asked warily. “I mean I understand if you don’t want to watch it, considering who’s fighting. I don’t know if I’d want to watch the dude who stole my supermodel, either.”
I sighed, resigning myself to the role of cuckold in my friends’ eyes. Dammit, why couldn’t I have kept my mouth shut? Now I’d have to put up with their well-meaning but ill-informed comments for… how long? The prospect of keeping up this particular ruse was not one I was looking forward to. I needed someone who understood the real situation, because if I had to go through this alone, I’d lose my mind. So at the last minute, I called Cameron and invited him over.