Page 160 of Sour Notes

Not now.

“Finally lost your guard dog?” He spits out—for real. A spot of his DNA lands on my damn cheek. Revulsion roils through me at the contact and my panic morphs into fury.

How fucking dare he corner me like an animal.

Acid burns low in my belly as I clench my fists and jut my chin up to face him.

“What do you want?” Stealing my spine, I snap back, matching every inch of his hostility with my tone.

“I thought it was time we caught up, honey.”

“I’m not your honey. Don’t call me that.”

“No, clearly not. You’re busy spreading your legs and giving that nectar to any old cunt these days aren’t you?” His eyes burn with anger, the cold rigid set of his face making my blood run cold.

How did I ever think I loved this man?

“Go to hell Pete. I’m not the one who cheated, you are. Who I fuck now is of no concern to you.” I try to turn so I can get my room key in the door but he grabs my arm, his fingers digging into my skin so hard, I’m surprised he doesn't draw blood. He snatches my room key with his other hand and tosses it to the floor.

“Oh no honey, that’s where you’re wrong. Do you really think your little guard dog is gonna stick around once the novelty wears off? He’s used to pussy throwing itself at him. You’re just another notch on his bedpost.” He laughs derisively.

“Men like him don’t marry girls like you Mia. They want a good little wife who’ll stay home to raise their kids. Put dinner on the table. Iron their shirts. They don’t want some degenerate sex writer who spends more time preaching about orgasms than keeping her man satisfied.”

He’s lying to you Mia. Don’t listen to him.

“Fuck off. You know nothing about Swayze. He’s a great man. The best. Nothing like the psychotic narcissist you are.”

He snorts. “Yeah, sure he’s such a great man. He looked really great while he was flirting with Mario’s pretty little friend over there. Who can blame him, you can’t miss her tits in that dress. A saint couldn’t resist looking at those. I had my eye on her myself, but it looks like she prefers dirty dogs.”

He’s lying. You know he is.

My heart cracks wide open and I see the victorious smile spread across his evil face when he realizes he’s winning again.

No. I can’t let him this time. He doesn’t get to see me break. I can do that in private.

“Go. To. Hell. Pete. I don’t give a shit what you think you saw. It’s total bullshit. Swayze has more integrity in his little finger than you have in your entire body. He’s not a serial cheater like you are. If you want to cheat on my cousin like you did to me, go right ahead. I’m not gonna pretend to feel sorry for her. She deserves anything karma wants to give her. But I’m not gonna make it easy for you.” Heart racing, I bunch my dress up in my hand—the thigh length split making it easy—and swiftly knee him in the junk, hard.

The force sends him careening to the floor at my feet, squealing like the little pig he is.

I grab my room key from where he tossed it before turning to face him again, slamming my foot down on his junk.

He groans in pain while cowering on the floor.

“I don’t know what I ever saw in you and I’m sure one day my cousin will wake up and realize the same. You don’t get to make me feel small anymore just because you’re an insecure, bitter, twisted little man. Don't you ever come near me again because next time, I won’t just knee you in the balls. I’ll rip your tiny dick off. Do we have an understanding?”

He groans but doesn’t answer me, so I press my foot down harder. My whole body trembles from the anger and adrenaline coursing through my veins, but I have to see this through.

“I said, do we have an understanding?”

“Yesssss, you bitch,” he hisses out. I dig my foot in once more for luck before spinning around and getting into my room as quickly as I can.

Slamming the door shut behind me I lean against it and slide to the floor, hugging myself until the shaking stops.

I want to crawl onto the bed and cry. Pete knew exactly which wounds to stab to hit me where it hurt most.

My arm stings, the skin red where he grabbed me so tight and twisted it. Rubbing the tender spot, I suck in a deep breath, hold it for four, then release it and do it again, repeating it over and over until my heart rate calms and the urge to cry subsides.

As much as I want to let it out and wail, I can’t. I’ll ruin my make up and everyone will know something’s up. It’ll be a cold day in hell before I do anything to mess up my twin’s wedding.