“Like I warned you not to cross me,” Curtis says, stretching his legs out and tucking one ankle over the other. “All you had to do was play happy family for a couple of years, and then we could have split up amicably, and none of this shit would be happening.”
“On what planet would West and Stella ever be happy with you cheating on me because there’s no way you’d ever have been able to keep that truth from them!”
“I had it all worked out, but you had to mess up my plans.” He jabs his finger in my face as his lips pull into a sneer. “And then you go and screw a kid. You disgust me.”
I bark out a laugh. “You’re such a hypocrite. How old is your current fuck buddy? And how old was Lydia when you took her to bed?”
He fixes me with an arrogant grin, causing goose bumps to sprout along my arms. “They weren’t sixteen.”
My brow puckers. What the hell is he talking about? Vander is eighteen.
“You look confused, honey,” Greg says. “Let me fill you in.” He swipes the screen of his cell and sticks it in my face. “You and Vander made this simple for us. You were too busy screwing your brains out and making mushy declarations of love to notice what was going on around you.”
I stare in horror as he flicks through images on his cell, showing pictures and videos of Vander and me, in various stages of intimacy. They don’t just have footage from Vander’s apartment either. Greg scrolls through tons of photos taken when we were in Bridgeport, and I am so glad Dana and Diana fled to Europe after she left rehab because he must have had someone following Vander all that week. Or maybe the person was following me?
“The texts were the cherry on top of the cake.” Greg switches to a file containing hundreds of messages. “You really should be more careful with your cell phone around the office.” He smirks, and I long to smash his face in.
“It’s password protected!”
He scoffs. “Every phone is hackable. You just need the right people to show you how it’s done.”
Greg pulls up another file and dangles it in my face. “This video’s my favorite. My son has really brought out your kinky side, hasn’t he, darling?”
My cheeks burn in a combination of rage and humiliation as he plays the video showing me posing for Vander in the nude. “You had no right to invade our privacy, and it’s illegal!”
Curtis snarls. “You have the nerve to call Ingrid a whore when you do that? You even let him take photos, you dumb bitch.”
“Fuck you, Curtis. You’re just pissed because Vander has proven how shit you are in bed. He gave me more orgasms our first night than you gave me our entire marriage!”
Greg chuckles, looking highly amused.
Veins throb in Curtis’s neck, and he looks like he wants to strangle me with his bare hands. He glares at me, and I glare right back. After a few heated seconds, he turns his venom in Greg’s direction. “Your son’s a dirty little punk. He’s lucky you and I came to an agreement, or I might be tempted to put one of these bullets through his skull.”
“Touch my son, and it’ll be the last thing you do,” Greg replies, quickly losing his amusement. He doesn’t care about Vander except as something that belongs to him, and no one threatens what’s his.
“You don’t want me, but no one else can have me. Is that it, Curtis?” I snap.
“He’s a fucking kid! I bet his balls haven’t even dropped. Who the fuck is he to take something that still belongs to me?”
He’s an insufferable arrogant ass. How did I ever marry him? What the hell was I thinking? Greg rolls his eyes as he repockets his phone, not pandering to Curtis’s little temper tantrum. “Vander is more man than you’ll ever be, and I can assure you his balls are fully grown. Along with every other part of him.” I purposely trail my eyes up and down Curtis’s body, lingering on his crotch as I snidely laugh.
My head whips back when he slaps me across the face, my neck jerking awkwardly. “I’ll fucking kill you.” He grabs my hair and twists it around his fist, yanking my head back. “I don’t need much incentive.”
“Focus,” Greg says, sounding bored. “All this talk of balls reminds me I need to get laid. Let’s finish this so we can leave.”
Curtis slams his mouth down on me from above, and I instantly bite down hard on his lower lip. He roars, releasing my hair and slapping me across the face again. Pain darts across my cheekbone, and stars momentarily dazzle my eyes.
“I should have let him fuck you,” Curtis hisses, dabbing at a bead of blood on his lip. “You deserve to be taught a lesson.”
“That ship has sailed, Hawthorne. End this,” Greg says in a clipped tone.
Curtis crouches in front of me, and I spit in his face. Wiping my saliva from his cheek with the back of his sleeve, he looks ready to rip my head from my shoulders. His hands fist into balls, and a muscle clenches in his jaw. “This is the deal, Kendall,” he says in a lethal tone. “You will sign the new divorce papers giving me the house and half of the cash in our savings account. We’ll share custody as agreed, and I’ll pay half the college fees.”
Our savings account has been decimated since we separated, and he knows I don’t earn enough to get a mortgage to buy a house even remotely similar to our family home. He must think I was born yesterday. I raised my kids in that house, and I’m not giving it up without a fight. “No deal. The kids are living with me, so we stay in the house, and the only divorce papers I’m signing are the original ones.”
“I need the house!” he shouts, and I narrow my eyes in suspicion.
“Why?”
He stands, looming over me with an evil grin. “Ingrid is pregnant, and I want my kid to grow up in the same house my other kids did.”
I’m stunned into silence because this is going to devastate West and Stella. Doesn’t he see that? Or does he not care anymore now he’s starting a new family? “I don’t care what you want, and no judge will rule in your favor when it comes to the family home. The kids are staying with me in that house. Find someplace else to raise your new family.”
“You don’t get a say in this,” Greg says, cutting in because he’s obviously run out of patience. “You will sign the divorce papers, end your relationship with my son, and agree to stay away from him and to stop meddling in his affairs.”
“Why on earth would I ever agree to that?”
Greg comes to stand beside Curtis, and they tower over me, their legs brushing my knees as I remain trapped in the chair. “Because if you don’t, we’ll report you to the police for the statutory rape of a minor.”
43
KENDALL
I bark out a laugh. “Are you two high or something?”
“You’re right,” Greg says, looking at Curtis. “She is a dumb bitch.”
Curtis holds his palm out, drilling Greg with a sharp look. It seems it’s okay for Curtis to insult me, but he takes offense if Greg goes there, which is interesting and maybe something I can use to play them off against one another. “Give me your phone,” Curtis demands.