Page 24 of Almost Rotten

A breath whooshes from my lungs.Good grief.

Why the hell is he here?

The last thing I want right now is to have to deal with Tytus.

I’m still livid with him. Even as I tried to justify his erratic behavior to Mercer, I had a hard time remembering what he’s been through and why he shuts down sometimes.

Ty cares about me. Deeply. That’s a fact. That doesn’t excuse anything he did to create and perpetuate this situation.

I’m committed to the plan I came up with in Mercer’s office. I’ll placate him, give him a chance to cool down. Then I’ll reason with him and convince him to delete the video.

But I don’t want to see him right now.

In this moment, I want nothing more than to be fucking done for the day.

Holding back a snarl, I snatch my bag off the ground and step inside the dimly lit room.

“What do you want now?” I ask.

He’s made himself comfortable on the love seat across from my desk, with his legs spread wide and his massive arms crossed in front of his body.

He’s quiet for a beat. Then another.

My irritation grows, but before I can demand an answer, he says, “Welcome home, Mrs. Tremblay.”

I stiffen.

There’s no one else around. No one to put on a show for.

This boy is out of his mind if he thinks his grand plan is going to extend into our private lives.

“Don’t call me that. How did you get in here?” I put my bag on my desk chair and pull my hair out of the ponytail I threw it into halfway through this garbage day.

I’m itching to strip off my clothes and change into sweats. Before this morning, I probably wouldn’t have hesitated to change with Ty in my room.

Now?

Not happening.

I step out of my shoes and tilt my neck from side to side, relishing the way it pops.

Ineedto be done for the day. As much as I’d like to put him in his place, he certainly hasn’t had enough time to cool down, and I’m out of fight and the patience necessary to navigate this without making a bigger mess.

Exhaling, I decide that I’ll do whatever it takes to get him out of here for the time being.

“Fine,” I relent, accepting temporary defeat. “Don’t answer me if you don’t want to, but I’d like to be alone now, so I need you to leave.”

Hetsks. “Aw, come on, petit diable. That’s no way to greet your husband.”

I bite my tongue, literally, to keep from going off on him.

He’s being an ass, but I refuse to engage.

I move around the room silently, taking off my jewelry, making it clear that I’m getting comfy for the night.

His eyes follow me as I stumble through the mostly dark room.

His scent—warm vanilla and bitter lime—infiltrates my senses, causing me to shudder. It used to be a sign of safety for me.