Page 70 of Jude

I arched a brow as the high-definition footage unreeled on the screen.

Abby stood on the stone porch of my house, her face twisted into an expression of pure, unadulterated malice.

Sofia was at the door, holding it half open with a bemused look.

I put on my earbuds, turned up the volume, and caught the end of Abby’s diatribe.

Even through the speaker of my phone, Abby’s condescending laugh echoed into the quiet studio.

‘This must be some joke. You have to be some random groupie he picked up at a dive bar or a concert to spite me.’

‘It’s not a prank, signora,’ Sofia stated, with calm I admired. ‘As I said, take it up with him if you’ve any doubts.’

‘We’ll see about that,’ Abby spat, her cold mask slipping as she threw a finger into Sofia’s face, causing her expensive leather handbag to slam against her hip. ‘You’re nothing to him; he’s never mentioned you before, and he won’t be throwing his life away on trash. He must have gone mad during this tour. I need to have a word to set him straight. Enjoy your little game while it lasts, hussy.’

Her tone dripped with entitlement that made my stomach turn.

I glowered at the screen as Abby disappeared from view.

My heart twisted for Sofia as she stared, then shook her head in disbelief and disappeared inside.

My gut roiled with pure disgust.

Who the fuck did Abby think she was?

She had no right to barge into my home and throw dirt on a woman who belonged there. Her toxic games sickened me. Sofia didn’t deserve her venom or her insults.

The memory of my past with Abby was the only leash tying me to her, and witnessing her strike out like a viper cut that last cord for good.

Abby had a face, sure, but she possessed none of the poise Sofia carried.

She lacked the quiet dignity Sofia held onto while taking punches she never earned.

Hell, Sofia’s face and the wild heat of our night together had consumed my mind all day, ever since I walked away from her at breakfast.

The realization hit hard and clean: Abby and I were done.

Riled up, I replayed the video, watching the vitriol pour out of my ex, and spat a curse at the glowing screen.

‘What’s got your panties in a twist, mate?’ Angel called out from his armchair, thumb pausing over his phone. ‘You look ready to chew through a brick.’

‘Long story,’ I growled. ‘Abby’s just showed up at my place and cornered Sofia.’

Angel exchanged a hard look with Deacon, who was adjusting the brass hardware on his sax.

I flipped the screen toward them, letting the audio cut through the studio.

When I turned my phone off, my bandmates were shaking their heads.

‘Hell, Judah,’ Deacon growled. ‘You can’t let your ex’s bitchiness slide or allow Sofia to take her heat.’

‘I’m about to handle it,’ I gritted out.

‘You’d better,’ Angel murmured, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. ‘Sofia’s a queen, man. She’s got real class. Meanwhile, you’ve got this woman disrespecting your wife. You needed to cut the leash on Abby a long time ago.’

‘Now you tell me?’ I grumbled, bitterness.

Levi shrugged. ‘We just didn’t want to step on your toes while you were sorting out your past. Sofia doesn’t deserve your ex-girlfriend’s drama, and she sure doesn’t have to deal with it from you.’