Total pages in book: 214
Estimated words: 202638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1013(@200wpm)___ 811(@250wpm)___ 675(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 202638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1013(@200wpm)___ 811(@250wpm)___ 675(@300wpm)
I feel damned and blessed all at once for having found him.
I sigh wearily, putting my head in my hands in desolation, feeling the tears brimming and a lump in my throat forming. I thought I was beginning to find out what I needed to know but as time goes on, it’s becoming obvious that I haven’t, and with Jesse keeping his lips firmly shut, evading again, it doesn’t look like I’m going to find out anytime soon – unless I ask Mikael…
The door flies open and Jesse comes crashing in, looking like he’s been electrocuted. He’s visibly shaking and the main artery in his neck is bulging. While I’ve calmed significantly, he, it would seem, has not. He holds up something in his hand.
‘What the FUCK is this?’ He looks like he could spontaneously combust at any moment. I frown but then realise he’s holding up the flight details that Patrick gave me.
Oh Jesus, I’m in for it now.
Hang on a minute. That was in my bag. ‘You’ve been through my bag!’ I’m shocked. I don’t know why, he does it all the fucking time. He doesn’t look ashamed or apologetic. He just waves the paper in front of my face while his chest puffs in and out erratically.
I push past him and storm downstairs to my bag, hearing him follow me, his heavy breathing almost louder than his charging footsteps. I rip my bag from the floor and take it into the kitchen.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ he shouts. ‘It’s not in there, it’s here.’ He thrusts the paper under my nose as I dump my bag on the island and start rummaging through it.
I have no idea what I’m looking for.
‘You are not fucking going to Sweden or Denmark or any fucking where, for that matter!’ His voice is somewhere between anger and fear.
I look at him. Yes, there is definitely fear in there. ‘Don’t go through my bag.’ I grind the words out through my incensed frustration and look at him accusingly.
He backs away a little and chucks the paper on the island while maintaining his infuriated glare. ‘Why, what else are you hiding from me?’
‘Nothing!’
‘Let me tell you something, lady.’ He stalks forward, getting his face right in mine. ‘I will die before I let you leave the country with that womanising prick.’ A wave of pure dread travels across his face.
‘He won’t be coming!’ I shout, slamming my bag down for effect. I don’t know that for sure and in actual fact, I suspect he probably will. He’s got a plan and a motive. But why?
‘Yes, he will. He’ll follow you there, trust me. He’s relentless in his pursuit of women.’
I actually laugh. ‘Just like you did?’
‘That was different!’ he barks. He closes his eyes and lifts his fingertips to his temples to start rubbing away the tension.
‘You’re impossible.’ I spit. I’ve lost the will to live.
‘And what are you doing taking vitamins?’ He scowls good and proper. ‘You’re pregnant, aren’t you?’
Is he winding me up? I grab the vitamins from my bag and throw them at his head. His eyes widen as he ducks stealthily out of the way and they crash against the wall before falling to the kitchen floor. I need to regain control. I’m losing it in a big way.
‘I bought the vitamins for you.’ I yell, and he looks at me like I could possibly be a fruit loop. I’m close.
‘Why?’ He looks at the pot on the floor.
‘You put your body through the mill. Have you forgotten?’
He scoffs. ‘I don’t need pills, Ava. I’ve told you.’ He stalks forward and grabs my arms, pulling me close to his face. ‘I am not a fucking alcoholic. If I drink now, it will be because you make me crazy mad!’ He shouts the last bit in my face.
‘You blame this all on me.’ I state. I’m not asking it as a question because he has already shouted it in my face.
He drops me and walks away. ‘No, I don’t,’ His hands yank on the back of his hair in frustration. ‘What else are you keeping from me? Business trips with rich Dutch men,’ He glares at me. ‘Cosy visits to the ex-boyfriend?’
‘Cosy?’ I splutter. He thinks seeing Matt was cosy? ‘You stupid fucking man!’
‘MOUTH!’
‘Get lost!’ I shout. He really is on another planet. If he knows me as well as he claims he does, then he wouldn’t be throwing such stupid insinuations around.
He throws his hands in the air in a Lord-give-me-strength gesture. ‘I can’t be around you right now,’ he bellows. He clenches his teeth, and I see the muscles of his jaw ticking. ‘I fucking love you, Ava. So fucking much, but I can’t look at you. This is fucked up!’ He stalks out of the kitchen.
I hear the front door slam and moments later, an almighty crash. I run out to the penthouse foyer and Jesse is nowhere to be seen, but the mirrored door of the elevator is shattered into a million pieces. Through my derangement, I instantly think of what further damage he has done to his poor hand. Then, I cry. Hopeless, howl at the moon, blubbering. I feel completely helpless and out of control. I feel like I’m being tested, like he is trying me to see if I have the strength to get him through this total mess and on top of that, I’m battling with the incessant niggling thought that it’s me who has made him like this. It’s not healthy.