I’m so angry at Park, I say the first thing that comes to mind. “Is that why you started the affair with Diane? So you can get back at your dad for having sex with your old girlfriend?”
Park goes terribly still, his gaze locked on mine, his lips slightly parted. He clears his throat, tilts his head to the side. “What did you just say?”
I retreat another step, feeling backed into a corner. I should’ve never said that. Should’ve never revealed I know his dirtiest little secret. Turning, I’m about to flee, but yet again he grabs me, this time hooking his arm around my waist and pulling me toward him, my back to his front, shifting his arm so it’s around my neck, so tight I’m afraid he’ll cut off my breathing.
“He told you, huh? I knew Rhett couldn’t keep his fucking mouth shut.” Park’s lips are right by my ear, his breath hot, his closeness making me shake with fear. His body is rigid, his breathing coming faster and faster as he keeps his grip on me. “You rat me out, I’ll make your life fucking miserable. I’m not messing around either. I mean it. You’re nothing but a little whore my brother found at a strip club.”
Tears automatically spring to my eyes and I blink hard, trying to get rid of them. I hate that his words hurt so much.
Park gives me a little shake. “Are you listening? Don’t fuck with me.”
“I-I won’t say anything.” That was a definite threat. One I don’t want to mess around with.
“You better not.” He releases me so quickly I almost collapse on the ground. “Better hope you don’t have any major secrets either. You betray me or Diane, and I’m putting you on blast for all the world to see. Mark my fucking words.”
He leaves me in a rush and I stumble my way back into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind me. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, my face pale, my eyes hollow, my stomach churning.
I make it to the toilet just in time, losing my entire Thanksgiving dinner with a couple of painful gags. My hands braced on the toilet, I close my eyes against the stinging tears, swallowing with a grimace past the terrible taste in my mouth. God, if Rhett finds out my secrets from Park…
I’m screwed.
Rhett
“I’m sorry Jensen got so ill,” Dad says, clapping me on the back as we stand on the front porch. “I hope she feels better soon.”
“Maybe she drank too much wine,” Diane suggests in her simpering voice. She’s standing beside Dad, ever the dutiful wife. Maybe Jensen saw too much of that bullshit and it made her feel sick. I know I can barely stomach it. “She needs to learn how to handle her liquor, Rhett. You don’t want some foolish drunk girl in your life. They’re too—risky.”
Leave it to her to drop insults even after Jensen puked her guts out.
“She had two glasses, tops,” I mutter, annoyed at Diane’s suggestion. What the hell does she know? “I need t
o go. Jensen’s waiting for me in the car.”
Trent and Addie already escorted her out there. They were the ones who discovered her stumbling out of the bathroom, her face pale, her hands clutching her stomach. I feel terrible that she got so sick so fast and I wasn’t there to help her.
What kind of boyfriend am I?
The moment I climb into the car, I cup Jensen’s cheek. Her skin is cool, her eyes closed, and when I touch her, the faintest smile curves her lips.
“Thank God you’re here,” she croaks. “Take me home, Rhett.”
“You want to go back to Savannah’s?” I fire up the car and burn rubber as I pull out of the driveway. I can already hear my father complaining that I left a mark, but right now, I don’t give a shit.
I need to take care of Jensen.
“No, take me back to your place.” She reaches out to touch my knee, her fingers warm even through the denim. “Please.”
I do as she asks, secretly happy that she chose to come back with me. I’m breaking down those walls, one by one. Persistence is key.
The moment we get back to my house, I escort her in, taking her straight to my bathroom so she can clean up. She brushes her teeth with the toothbrush she left at my place, but she seems tired, a little out of it, and I turn on the shower for her, making sure it’s nice and hot.
“I’m not a baby,” she says, slapping my hands away when I attempt taking off her sweater. “I can undress myself.”
I try not to stare as she strips her clothes off, considering her sick state, but damn, her body is perfection. She slides past me and enters the shower, shutting the glass door behind her. There’s not enough steam from the hot water yet, so I can see every inch of her as the water cascades all over her body, and I can’t help but watch her. Admire her. Wish like hell she didn’t feel so awful.
“You’re a pervert, Rhett Montgomery,” she calls over the steady sound of the water hitting the tile wall.
“I am.” Yeah, I can’t hide it.