Page 108 of Double Daddies (Dirty Daddies Anthologies #8)
“What the fuck , Avery?” he bellowed as he struggled to disentangle himself from his whore of the day. Only, she was flailing too, dragging out the extrication process. “What the actual fuck?”
Oh, she wasn’t done yet. Not by a long shot.
Dropping the bucket with a clatter, Avery started gathering articles of clothing and shoes as fast as she could.
The heels, the dress, the panties she found beneath his discarded shirt.
With an armful of their crap, she strode over to the window, shoved it open, and threw the whole lot out into the summer heat.
Shoes plummeted, clothes fluttered, all the way down five glorious stories.
“ Avery .”
She turned back, folding her arms over her chest combatively, and glowered at him.
“If it isn’t perfectly obvious, Adam, we’re done.
Get your naked ass out of my apartment and take that ,” she said scathingly, raking her eyes up and down the shivering, skinny bitch huddled on the bed, “with you. This troll isn’t sharing her bridge anymore, asshole. ”
Blond hair tousled, green eyes blazing, Adam set his hands on his hips and faced her down. She realized suddenly that he’d put on weight sometime in the past few months, that the man she’d been so attracted to in the beginning held no appeal at all.
It had nothing to do with his physical appearance, although now her eyes were open, he wasn’t as attractive as she once believed. No, it came down to what was inside him, what was now cracked open and on full display.
Selfishness, narcissism, arrogance.
All the ugliness she’d blinded herself to because she… what?
Was lonely? Liked the company?
It sure as hell wasn’t the sex.
“You can’t kick me out. You need me.”
Avery scoffed. “Like a bullet in the head, Adam. This is my apartment, my home. You’ve abused the privilege of being here one too many times.
Bringing that into our bed, my bed, is deplorable.
It sums up who and what you are. So I’ll say it one more time—get your naked ass and your naked whore out of my apartment before I really lose my shit. ”
“You stuck up little bitch?—”
Reaching into her back pocket, Avery yanked out her phone and pulled up the camera.
Snapping several uncomplimentary photos of Adam—the used condom hanging off his wilting dick really highlighted how pathetic he was—she turned to the striking redhead and immortalized her, too.
“You work for a company that prides itself on family and morals, Adam. Pretty sure they’re going to see you in a very unmoral light if I send these to the company’s entire chain of command. ”
Switching to video, she swung from Adam to the woman and back again, making sure to pause and capture all the dirty details.
“Don’t know who you are, but judging by the five-thousand-dollar dress down on the sidewalk, you’re some kind of big deal.
I wouldn’t know how to track you down or find out who you are, so you probably figure you’re safe. ”
Slim shoulders sagged under the weight of a huge sigh.
Avery pocketed her phone before Adam decided to tackle her and erase the evidence.
“The thing is, you’re just as complicit in this shitstorm as he is.
He knew what he was doing when he chose to cheat.
You obviously didn’t care he had a girlfriend, but then, trolls don’t have feelings, right?
I don’t need to know your name; when these pictures hit the media, everyone will know who you are and what you fuck. ”
“Blackmail?” Adam snarled, clenching his fists.
“How much do you want?” The woman’s voice was taut.
“Oh, this isn’t about blackmail. What I want is for both of you to get the hell out of my apartment and never see either of you again. If you come within fifty feet of me, these photos will land in the inbox of every reporter in Denver.”
That seemed to shut both of them up, Avery thought in satisfaction. It was hardly a fair trade, considering how they’d sullied her home, tainted her safe place with their fornication and adultery, but if she never laid eyes on them again… she could deal with it.
Mouth twisted bitterly, Adam yanked the condom off, fisting in it in his hand; she was gratified to note it was empty. The impromptu shower had deprived him of any kind of release. “What about my stuff?”
“Forget about your stuff, Adam! How the hell are we supposed to leave? The crazy bitch threw our clothes out the goddamn window!” Temper igniting, the redhead rose from the bed, reaching for the duvet.
“Don’t think so,” Avery snapped. “We trolls are possessive of our shit.” She glanced down at Adam’s side of the bed, spotting the two—yes, two —towels he’d used after his morning shower and thrown carelessly on the floor, as usual. Another habit she hated.
She stomped over and grabbed them, launching the bath towel at the redhead. “There.” The smaller towel, barely big enough to cover Adam’s waist, she threw at him. “I’ll get someone in to pack your crap and deliver it to your office, along with the bill. That’s all you’re getting from me, Adam.”
Feeling her temper fraying at the edges, Avery spun on her heel and walked out.
Heading straight for the front door, she flung it open, then plucked his bunch of keys from the bowl on the table—yet another of his requirements.
It took her ten seconds to identify the keys relevant to her apartment and the building, another thirty to wrestle them off the Denver Broncos keyring.
“Avery, please…” The difference in his voice was astounding; soft, pleading, a throwback to the man she’d met months ago. A testament to just how well he played the game. “This doesn’t have to be the end.”
Turning, she laughed and flung the keys in his direction.
“Yeah, it really does. The end of your free ride, Adam. You don’t pay rent, you don’t contribute to the bills, you sure as hell don’t buy the groceries.
None of that matters anymore, because it looks like the only thing you brought to this laughable excuse of a relationship is the potential for everything sexually transmitted. ”
They stood there barefoot, in nothing but damp towels, and she didn’t see even an ounce of regret. No shame, no inner reflection of anything but irritation at being caught.
The walk of shame might give them some humility.
“Can I at least get some clothes from the?—”
“That’s a hell no. Get out, both of you.”
She didn’t know what was more satisfying—watching them trudge into the hallway with the essentials barely covered, or slamming the door shut behind them.
Once the apartment was quiet again, the adrenaline fueling her anger began to fade, leaving her shaky and, to her horror, teary. The damn things were burning behind her eyes, blurring her vision.
No, no, no. Absolutely not.
There was nothing that could possess her to shed tears over that lying, cheating, unreliable sonofabitch. If her emotions were out of whack, it was only because she was so goddamn angry at being played for a fool.
Locking the door and slotting the security chain into place for good measure, Avery forced back the rising deluge and hurried down the hall to retrieve Venus. Cuddling the Mallow, she avoided even looking inside her bedroom.
The bed needed incinerating.
The city probably wouldn’t be impressed if she dragged it down to the street and set it on fire along with all of Adam’s shit, so she had to figure out what to do with it because there was no chance she was sleeping on that thing ever again.
But as she stumbled to the living room and collapsed on the couch, a horrible thought struck her. Six months Adam had been living here. Her routine hadn’t changed in all that time; her schedule at Wakey Bakey was pretty solid, with today being an anomaly.
How often had he brought his casual fucks home? How many women had he slipped through the front door into her home? What else had he desecrated with his slimy, unfaithful dick?
The bath, the shower? The floors? The couch?
Head falling back, she tightened her arms around Venus for comfort and squeezed her eyes shut as tears pushed through her rigid resistance. How the hell did a good day turn into a nightmare so quickly?
It hadn’t, she realized. She’d been living in the nightmare for six months without being fully aware of how deeply she was immersed. The little niggling issues she’d tried to understand were simply warnings of how big the main issue— Adam —really was beneath the surface.
Today was the culmination of everything wrong in her life.
Was that another sign? Some universal indication that she needed to do things differently? But what, exactly? If the universe was going to take the time to blow up her life in spectacular fashion, could it not take a few extra minutes to point her in the right freaking direction?
For God’s sake, she was happy at Wakey Bakey.
It gave her the chance to talk to people, to brighten their day with baked goods and a smile.
It also provided her with ample opportunities to sample said baked goods, which was probably why her ass could stop a runaway train—personally, she blamed the hazelnut fudge brownies, but no one could resist the warm, gooey treats.
So, she was happy with her job, but her personal life had just taken the plunge off a cliff and smashed on the rocks below, erupting into flames and black, acrid smoke.
But had it, really?
Avery rubbed her cheek on the Mallow, trying hard to step away from the big ball of ridiculous hurt brewing in her chest. Her life had slipped off the rails a little, that was all. No cliff, no fire and smoke.
Adam cheating on her wasn’t a cataclysmic event; it hadn’t even been a big surprise. He wasn’t the love of her life, nowhere near. The pain in her heart was… she didn’t know what it was, but it wasn’t caused by her heart cracking in two from his deception.