I walk out of the bedroom and decide to check on Alex one last time before I head to court. Latching the clasp on my watch, I look up and nearly run him over on his way into the bedroom. He looks tired and hungover, but his eyes remain the brilliant blue that continually takes my breath away. We stop and look at each other for a moment, neither of us moving or saying a word. Finally, I step around him and head toward the kitchen.
"Kylie..." Alex grabs my hand.
I yank it away. "Not now, Alex."
I'm near the music room when I hear him coming behind me. "Kylie, we need to talk."
"No, Alex, not now."
"Kylie, we can't leave things like this. Please."
I wheel around, and he comes to an abrupt halt in front of me.
"I'm not getting into this with you right now, Alex. I'm working on virtually no sleep, and I have to go save a man from lethal injection. You'll excuse me if your drunken rendezvous with another woman is not my top priority."
Alex just stares at me, his mouth open, and I take a couple of steps toward him.
"One week. That's all I asked. One fucking week, Alex. And you couldn't even give me that. Now, I'm done talking, and I have to go to court. If you want to talk to someone, call Rebekah."
I stalk away, and this time, he doesn't follow me.
Grabbing a travel mug, I fill it and ask, "Who's taking me this morning?"
I direct the question to Jake, but Thomas raises his hand, which fills me with relief. Overbearing, protective Jake might drive me completely over the edge this morning. Thomas is young enough to be manipulated.
Out in the garage, I turn to Thomas. "Keys," I demand, my hand outstretched toward him.
"Sorry, Miss Tate. I can't do that."
"Fine, I'll go get the keys to the Maserati, and you can try to keep up."
Thomas lowers his head, exhales loudly, and drops the keys in my hand. I pull the SUV out of the garage and start down the driveway. Plugging my iPhone into the dock, I start my playlist. I love driving. It calms me down and helps me get my head straight. The music gives me something mindless to focus on. The louder, the better.
I reach to crank up the volume when Thomas speaks up.
"I know this is none of my business, but I was with Jake when he went to pick up Mr. Stone last night. I had to drive his car back. Miss Patty said he had been there since about eight and that her friend had been there but not with Mr. Stone, and then she had left after a while."
Thankful for the information and the effort, I smile, but I don't want to talk to Thomas about this subject. "So, you got to drive the Maserati? How was that?"
A sly smile crosses his face. "It was sick."
I shake my head. "You suck." I turn up the volume and speed down the road.
I walk through the foyer, drop my briefcase on the floor, and head straight for the bar in the round room. I down one scotch, refill, toss that one back, and take a deep breath. I pour myself a third, step away from the bar, and lean against the back of the sofa. The scotch rolls slowly down my throat, and burns a path to my empty stomach.
Closing my eyes, I steady myself. I know a fight is about to ensue, and after the battle that took place in court today, along with the lack of sleep last night, I'm not sure I'm up for the throwdown with Alex.
The electricity in the room sparks, and I feel his presence before he's even through the door. I open my eyes and find him standing in front of me. We stare at each other for a moment before I break the connection and take another drink.
"Kylie, I'm not sure I have adequate words to express how sorry I am."
I empty my glass and move past him to the bar. I can't look at him. His eyes have a direct link to my heart and soul, and right now, I want to be pissed and unforgiving.
"What happened, Alex? You got bored, went to the bar, called your ex-girlfriend, and had a drunken night of sex?"
"She has never been my girlfriend, Kylie."
I turn to face him, throwing daggers into him with my glare. "Oh, sorry. I meant, your friend who you've never had sex with in all the years you've known her until last night when you decided to revenge fuck her to spite me. Better?"
"That's not what happened. Please, Kylie, can we sit down and talk about this?"
I move to the couch and sit, fed up and exasperated. The alcohol is already doing a number on me since I haven't eaten anything since yesterday at lunch.
Alex sits but keeps his distance. "I was waiting for you in the bar, and I had a few drinks. When you didn't show up, I left and drove around. I stopped at a liquor store, picked up another bottle of scotch, and then sent that stupid text. I knew you'd call, and when you did, I just made it worse by trying to make you jealous. After I hung up on you, I didn't know what to do, so I went to Patty's house."
"So, Rebekah wasn't with you in the car?" I ask suspiciously.
"No, but when I got to Patty's, Rebekah was there. Patty said she came by to confirm that you and I were living together. Apparently, Francine called her and told her about us, which I will deal with later. But I swear to you, Kylie, I didn't call her. The only person I wanted to call or see was you, and I totally fucked that up. Patty and Rebekah were sitting in the kitchen, and I pulled Patty into the family room to talk to her about what I had done. I have no idea how long we were in there. I drank, and Patty verbally kicked the shit out of me for treating you so horribly, reminding me that you had put up with an enormous amount of crap from our family already. Then, she called Jake to come and get me. The rest you know."
"Except for the part where Rebekah answered your phone and told me you were too busy servicing her to take my call. Did she not give you the message? I guess you couldn't hear with your head between her legs, huh?"
His face drains of all color, and his eyes widen. There is not even a hint of a cover-up.
"What? No, Kylie, I swear to you, I wasn't in the same room with her for more than five minutes. Rebekah came into the family room after a while. I have no idea how long she sat in the kitchen by herself or why, but she handed me my cell phone before she left. Like I told you the other night, I have never and will never have sex with her. At this point, I hope I never see her again."
"But you decided to tell me you had a better offer than me for the night. Which is it, Alex? You fucked around with her, or you just wanted to hurt me and make me question everything you have ever said to me and what we mean to each other?"
He looks away. "I was hurt, Kylie, and I wanted you to hurt."
"Congratulations, Alex. The hurt I felt last night—that I still feel today—pales in comparison to any beating John ever gave me."
Alex drops his head, and I wait for him to look at me again before I start speaking. I want him to see me, to look into my eyes, so he understands the heartache I'm feeling.
"I guess I owe her one thing. Up until she answered your phone, I vacillated between anguishing over you having sex with another woman or absolutely fearing that you had an accident and were seriously injured or dead. Once I talked to her, I was just sick to my stomach at the thought of you fucking her."
"I did not fuck her. I swear to you. I never have. I never will. Call Patty. She'll tell you Rebekah was there when I arrived and that I didn't speak to her at all. I'm so sorry I made you think I was with her. It kills me that I hurt you this way or made you question how much you mean to me. It was stupid, and I'm so very sorry. Please, give me the chance to make this right, to prove to you that I'm yours. Only yours."
My head is pounding. I'm attempting to reconcile my brain telling me it's over and my heart begging me to forgive him. I close my eyes. If only the world would stop spinning out of control. I put the empty glass on the coffee table in front of me and hold my head in my hands. Blocking everything out is an absolute necessity at this point, and I concentrate on my fingers as they circle my temples.
Alex moves closer to me, places his hand on my back, and rubs it. I know he's trying to console me. Unfortunately, the act is having the opposite effect.
"Kylie—"
I stand. His hand to falls away from me, startling him enough that he scoots back on the couch. I'm not in the correct frame of mind to hear him right now. I'm so hurt and confused, and everything I was sure about just a few days ago is slipping away.
"I'm going to go for a run." I turn away.
Alex grabs my hand. "Please don't go."
"I can't do this right now, Alex. I need to clear my head. You have to let me do this my way."
I walk out, leaving him on the couch, as I go to the bedroom to change.