Wind whipped through my hair, and moisture from the air coated my skin, reminding me of the night before. Holding her in the shower should have never happened. I should have left her in my bed and went to the guest room, where I’d been staying since we signed the contract. I shouldn’t have held her all night and taken care of her when it had been her drunken state of mind that made her want to do it.
But that mind was sharp as ever, still seeing dollar signs through the haze of the liquor. That was the only thing that made the most sense. She knew that getting the money after thirty days was going to require her to follow all the rules laid out in that document, and that included consummating.
Sue me for being traditional, but a marriage wasn’t a marriage if there was no fucking. But what we did when we were teens would pale in comparison to the meaning of that word now—the way I would thoroughly fuck her after all this time. We used to make love to each other, but when we signed that paper, all my cock wanted to make was war. I wanted to make her drool, bleed, scream, and beg. I wanted her on her knees, strapped to the mattress, or chained up in my barn.
She said I could have her body, use her if I wanted. And I fuckingwanted. But then she had to go and say that her body had no value, no worth.
That she hated me.
And I’d spent these past few days wondering why it was that she hated me when it was so clear it was the other way around.
She left me.
We had a plan, and she jumped ship.
So what gave her the right to hate me?
Lyra took one look at my tattoo and reacted with spite. I couldseethe hate. Felt it as she slammed the bathroom door without a single glance back. If caring for her wasn’t the way to get her to bend and break for me, then perhaps she needed the version of myself that she’d created.
I tugged on the reins as a large grey building came into view, bringing her to a stop. I hopped off and walked her to the gate that led to a small pasture meant just for her, then made my way inside the facility.
“Mornin’ boss.” A short cropping of ashy brown hair popped out from one of the office doors, the Oak Heart Farms logo of a tree trunk behind floral words on his shirt.
“Leo.” I bobbed my head in greeting as I walked by.
He ran to catch up, walking beside me. I sighed as he started, “Meant to congratulate you on your wedding.”
“Alright.”
Leo dodged a few plants as we stepped into the main room. “So, um, listen.”
Waiting for him to speak wasn’t on my agenda today. “Continue.” I circled my hand in the air.
He nodded, then rushed out, “Jamie’s been sayin’ a lot of things lately, and—”
“Whatthings?” I kept my tone flat and eyed one of the cameras in the corner.
“Things about a bet between you two, and how you won, but he doesn’t think you really did.”
“That so?” Leo swallowed and crouched with me as I lowered to inspect one of the plants. “These plants aren’t ready for flowering.”
Leo cleared his throat. “Yes, sir.”
“Who told you to flip these?”
“Jamie, sir.”
“How long ago?”
“Three days.” Leo scratched the back of his head. “I tried to tell him no—”
“Try harder next time,” I scorned, narrowing my eyes on the lights above. “He could have just cost me close to a mil. These plants were supposed to stay behind on rotation. Fix it.”
“Noted, boss.” Leo pulled out his phone, snapping a picture of the row and typing out a note. “So, like I was sayin’ about Jamie.”
I stood and put my hand on his shoulder. He stiffened. “I’d tell you to tell Jamie to stay in his fucking office next time but—well, there won’t be a next time soon enough. Jamie won’t be workin’ here in about—” I did some math. “Twenty-four days.”Fuck, almost a week already?
“Right, well. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Jamie says ‘if’ a lot about that whole thing that happened.”
