Page 5 of Jace
I sit on my stool, listening to laughter trickling down from the second floor. Vivian and her client are having a blast. As usual, an hour into her session, I quietly leave a cup of tea by the studio door for her.
Then, I watch Nash and Vale disappear to the third floor to test a new doggy style sex strap—a tempting detail I really didn’t need to hear about.
It only leaves me alone, silently aching and angry when Vivian’s client leaves, and her husband walks in five minutes later.
“Sup, man.” He tries posturing with me, puffing up his bird chest like a peacock.
I bare my teeth, only able to grit out. “Grrr.”
Fucker’s too dumb to know lions snack on birds.
But I know his name is David and that he and Vivian were high school sweethearts, married in college. Meaning David’s the only selfish, pathetic dick she’s loved.
I can’t even speak for fear I’ll smack that orange beanie off his head and choke him with it until his stoned eyes pop out of his skull.
I let my lip curl in the direction he’ll find his beautiful wife.
Upstairs.
Every minute he’s in Vivian’s studio is a minute I silently riot with a war about to explode in my heart.
Vale and Nash come ambling downstairs, all post-coital grins, before they fall at the snarl on my face.
“What’s wrong?” Vale worries.
As much as I’m a king, protecting her, Vale’s a queen, always caring for me.
“Nothing,” I lie.
Her face bends with anguish. “Jace,tellVivian how you feel. You’ve waited long enough.”
“No,” I grumble. “If I were married to her, I’d kill any man who tried to fuck with it.”
“You wouldn’t need to,” Nash adds. “Vivian’s not the kind of woman who’d ever cheat; you can tell.Thatand you two belong together.”
I can’t breathe because Nash is right.
I belong with someone who belongs to someone else.
The shaggy blond punk-ass loitering down the stairs in fluffy slippers like he owns the world.
“Sup,” he boasts again. The urge to smack that smirk off his boyish face makes my palm burn. I want to rip his clammy hands off for ever touching Vivian.
My nostrils suddenly flare, my shoulders rising, but discreetly. Nash steps in front of me, blocking my attack. Like me, he lets his silent glare threaten the punk while Vale does that woman thing so well—the verbal judo of smiling with daggers in her eyes.
“Goodbye,” she says as sweet as salt.
The door closes behind him, and I crane my ear, suddenly summoned by a sound I can’t abide.
Vivian, crying.
I bolt up the stairs, turning left to find her crumpled on the floor of her studio.
“Viv.” I rush to her, falling to my knees. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
She lifts her sobbing gaze. “He won’t let me go.” She doesn’t look physically hurt, but something else is destroying her—something I’ll easily kill.
“Let?” I seethe. “Viv, I won’tlethim have a choice. If you want to end your marriage, do it.”
