Page 13 of The Impossible

Shawn: She just stepped out with a friend. We followed them to Lordes Steak. You want us to stay outside?

My blood boiled at the mention of a friend because Nic didn’t have no fucking friends. I wasn’t about to tip my hand and ask gender, I’d just see for myself.

Me: Yeah. I’m on my way.

I was on my feet in seconds. “I need to go see about something.”

“I’ll ride with you. You do realize I told Mama both of us were coming through. I mean unless you have some other shi⁠—”

“Doesn’t matter.” I descended the stairs of the pool hall, headed to the car I knew was waiting on me.

“What the fuck just happened between now and the last five minutes?” he asked, sensing the change in my mood.

Her! “Nothing.” I responded, as soon as the car door was opened for me to get in.

Once we were in the truck I sat back, holding my phone out to click Shawn’s contact. I then mashed it to my ear, listening to it ring for all of five seconds before he picked up.

“Yeah, boss.”

“I’m on my way. Have that motherfucker shutting down for the evening when I pull up.”

“Loud?”

“Nah, discreet.”

“Bet.”

He hung up and I dropped my phone into my lap, loosening my cufflinks. I told Nic I wasn’t patient at all, but I’d try to be. This shit right here had me saying fuck that patient shit.

“Do I even wanna know what the hell I just jumped in the car for?”

I didn’t respond, instead watching the city lights as my driver headed toward the restaurant.

“Fuck it, let me tell Mommy we’re about to be late.”

I shook my head. “We’ll be on time. Tell her to have Lucinda set another table setting though.” No sooner than I said that did we pull up in front of the restaurant.

“Oh okay. I’ma stay in the car.” He was still taken aback, but I didn’t have the time nor the energy to explain anything to him. I was already stepping out of the car, moving toward the front door where Shawn stood with his hands linked across his abdomen.

“Last booth at the end.”

I nodded and he opened the door for me to enter. The whole walk I told myself I was keeping my cool, forcing my temper at bay. However, the closer I got the more that shit seemed unattainable. I felt like she needed to see how south things could go for playing with me. Even if she wasn’t necessarily playing with me. After all, she was about to be my wife. Why shouldn’t she know all sides of me?

I spotted her by the back of her head after watching one of my men escort the couple seated behind them out of the restaurant.

“Yeah, chef’s apology. Tonight is a bad night,” he said to the elderly white couple who didn’t understand why they were leaving their meals.

Oh fucking well.

The nigga she was sitting across from spoke in a hushed tone, pissed about something. “I cannot believe this, I cannot believe you would do this to me. My mother said you were a whore,” he muttered.

“You fucking stomped on my hea—” he started, but the moment I stopped at their table, he paused and stared at me. He was confused as to why I was standing at their table and she was looking down at the menu.

“I hear you. You have every right to be pissed, but what you won’t do is ca—” She looked up at him, then followed his eyesight to me. We locked eyes.

I couldn’t tell if she was shocked or angry, either way that exact look made my dick hard. I leaned down and kissed the side of her face before I unbuttoned the buttons on my suit jacket and took a seat next to her.

“You look beautiful, Nic.” I leaned into her space, inhaling her scent before I looked at him.