Method for Matrimony – Jupiter Tides Read Online Anne Malcom

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Suspense Tags Authors: Anne Malcom Advertisement

Advertisement

He didn’t do that.

Luckily.

I didn’t want Kip to do that for me.

This kind of thing didn’t seem to measure up with what Kip would do. I didn’t know if he even had the kind of connections to make something like this happen. But I couldn’t rule it out either. Kip was full of surprises.

I pulled my shoulders back and met Emmet’s eyes with defiance. “I’m sure you’re the reason you lost your business, your wife, and almost went to prison,” I shot back, sounding a lot more confident and unafraid than I really was. “Karma works slow sometimes, but it fucking works.” I tilted my head, regarding him. “But if it really worked, you’d be flattened by a bus or something, living your afterlife out as a dung beetle.”

“You mouthy bitch,” he snarled.

Okay, as good as that had felt, I’d momentarily lapsed into old patterns. Pre-pregnancy Fiona. Who could mouth off to assholes known to be violent because she could take care of herself.

Pre-pregnancy Fiona was not afraid of a beating.

Because it was just me.

But now it wasn’t just me.

I placed my hand on my stomach.

A mistake.

Emmet’s gaze went there. “That is my baby.” He pointed to my stomach. “You were meant to give me a baby.”

Panic seized my spine at the ownership in my voice. Not just panic. Fury. Absolute raw anger to think he could claim possession over my body, then or now. “I wasn’t meant to give you anything, asshole,” I spat. “I have never and will never belong to you.”

He moved quicker than I’d expected him to.

I figured he’d move eventually—obviously he wasn’t here for a cup of tea and some biscuits to catch up on old times. His motives were malevolent. But I’d been planning on stalling him, hoping Kip might burst through the door. Or Calliope. Either of them would wipe the floor with my asshole ex.

Not a very solid plan, but my options were limited. I didn’t have any weapons within reach, he was standing between me and the front door, and I still had no idea where my fucking phone was. I was little more than defenseless, but I didn’t want to act like it. Fake it till you make it and all that.

I moved, too, but slower than I regularly would. So, he managed to grab a hold of my hair and attempt to slam my face into the countertop.

This time, I didn’t have a delayed reaction. My survival instinct finally kicked in, and I let the rage at this asshole flow through my veins.

I threw my weight backward so I missed the countertop and slammed into his body. I whirled, wincing at the pain in my side from the rapid movement, and didn’t hesitate to slam my knee right into his balls, satisfied with his groan of pain and the way he crumpled to the floor.

There was a hiss and another groan of pain from Emmet, and I looked to find Boo on the ground, swiping at him with her paws until he sent her flying with one arm gesture.

I cried out in worry for my pet, but I didn’t have time to go save her, not with Emmet already getting his bearings.

I darted out the doors onto the deck, breathing heavily, the sharp pain in my side making every inhale agony.

Running out the back door was not my first choice. But to get out the front door, I’d have to go past Emmet and risk him grabbing me. I’d kicked him in the balls, but I unfortunately hadn’t cut them off. He would recover quickly. Not quick enough for me to run down my long drive to my closest neighbor. I couldn’t remember where I put my car keys either.

But running out the back, down the stairs, and onto the beach would actually get me to help quicker, with my closest neighbor having beach access too. The stairs to their place was maybe a five-minute walk.

I really hoped they were home. And armed.

Except I’d misjudged some shit. Like how long it took for my pregnant ass to rush down the stairs. And run. In bare feet. In the sand.

I was not in good shape. My lungs were squished up with all my other organs, and it was almost impossible to catch my breath.

No one was on the beach today.

Just my fucking luck.

It was still warm, but it had been windy as fuck all day. Not great swimming weather, the waves wild and dangerous. Granted, not that many people swam in this area anyway. This corner of the beach was mostly frequented by the people who actually lived in the cottages that dotted the coastline.

I’d also misjudged how long it would take for Emmet to recover from a kick to the balls and how quickly he’d be able to run down the stairs and catch up with me.

Advertisement