Page 57 of Shallow

But not this. Neverthis.

I slip a hand over my mouth, still feeling the assault of his lips onmine.

Nowwhat?

Nineteen

Cary

Afucking checkbook.

When she stormed out of my car on Saturday, that’s one of the things that fell out of her purse. Neither of us noticed it because it had fallen underneath her seat. I’d stuffed it in my pocket and planned on giving it to her the next day, not giving it a secondthought

Untilnow.

Sitting at my desk on Monday evening, I’m still staring at the damn thing like it’s going to magically change into something else. Or disappear. Or not tempt me to do what I’m consideringdoing.

And who the hell still carries a checkbook? With everything paid online now, that’s got to be the dumbest shit I’ve ever seen. I’ll need to have a talk with Shiloh about the stupid security risks shetakes.

Right after I fuck herover.

My stomach churns the whole time I tap the checkbook against my palm. I’m either going to throw up or shit my pants. Maybe both, I don’t know. This feels wrong. I have no clue why I’m doing it. My plan from the beginning was to ruin her, but this makes me a thief. No better than her or anyone else I served timewith.

But damn, she owes me. Out of the millions that she makes, would she seriously miss a few thousand? It wouldn’t solve my problems, but it would buy me sometime.

That’s when her voice echoes in my headagain.

“You’re no saint, but I’m no angel either. So, where does that leaveus?”

It leaves us back at square one—trying like hell to survive three years together without destroying eachother.

Jerking my desk drawer open, I toss the checkbook inside and slam it shut. “Jesus Christ, woman,” I groan, dropping my head in my hands. “What the hell have you done to meagain?”

My moment of solitude is interrupted when I hear belligerent yelling coming from the main room of the center, followed by a string of curse words vulgar enough to make mecringe.

And that’s sayingsomething.

Pushing my chair away from my desk, I fling my office door open to find Romeo with his hands around two smaller boys’ necks. His eyes are wide, and his pupils are so dilated I can only see a sliver of color. I recognize the signs right away. He’s in hypermanic mode, bouncing around, ready to fight anyone who looks at him. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s goingon.

“Romeo!” Clearing a path toward him, I glare into his glassy eyes. I know that look. He thinks he’sinvincible.

“You want a piece of me too, big man?” Wiping his nose with the back of his hand, he punches the air a few times before slamming his chest intomine.

Cocaine. I’ve seen it dozens of times, and it pisses me off. Romeo has been clean for two years. Now that’s all shot to shit, and forwhat?

“Was the high worth it?” I roar, shoving both hands into hischest.

“Fuck you,Cary.”

“No, fuck you, Romeo. Getout.”

“I ain’t leaving shit. You can’t make me go anywhere.” Just to prove his point, he drives the heel of his palm hard against my shoulder andlaughs.

Fuck this, I’m done. “Get in the ring.Now.”

At some point during the altercation, Shiloh walks in, because as Romeo is telling me to go to hell again, she takes it upon herself again to play the role of mediator and jump betweenus.

“Come on. You two don’t want to dothis.”