Page 14

CHAPTER 14

Birdie

“This is my house! You can’t stop me from coming in! Birdie!”

My body jolts at Blake’s voice. Angry footsteps stomp down the hall, a prelude to a hurricane.

Morra’s forehead creases. “You don’t have to see him. Let me deal with it.”

I shake my head. “If he feels he has no access to me, he’ll flip. Blake is unpredictable when it comes to losing power. I have to talk to him.”

He nods reluctantly as he walks ahead of me. I rush forward to cut him off. “Uh…perhaps alone?”

He stares at me as if I’m out of my mind. “I’m your bodyguard. That man is a threat. You’re not going anywhere near him without protection. Please follow me, Mrs. Abel.”

Blake storms into the house, barely contained by Morra’s team. “What the hell is this?!” he bellows when he sees my face.

“Blake, please,” I begin, barely meeting his gaze, my voice trembling despite my efforts to appear composed, “I hired one of the security firms you vetted.” I gesture at the four men in suits surrounding Blake, “That’s the team responsible for the house security,” and then at Morra, “and this is Tristan Morra, my bodyguard. I believe you’ve already spoken.”

“You hired a damn bodyguard without consulting me?!” Blake’s voice booms through the house. “I’m your husband and manager. I make these decisions.”

I swallow, my throat too dry. “Not anymore.”

“Oh yeah?” Blake scoffs bitterly and glares at Morra. “Well, you’re fired. Get the fuck out.”

Morra doesn’t flinch. “I don’t work for you. Mrs. Abel hired me herself, as an individual, which means neither you nor any other party you represent has any authority here. She’s the only one I answer to.”

Blake switches his glare toward me, and I notice how red and glazed his eyes are. He’s on something. “Still scheming behind my back, aren’t you? You think this glorified babysitter can protect you?”

My heart pounds. Blake’s temper is unmanageable when he’s wasted. “Blake, please. Why don’t you leave now? We can talk later.”

“There’s no later. I’m heading upstairs to take a shower. Escort your guests out before I come back down and throw them out myself.” Blake moves toward the stairs, but the men block his way. He pushes the two in front of him. “You can’t stop me from going to my room. This is my house!”

“No, it’s not,” I say to end this conflict before it escalates more violently, drawing strength from Morra’s presence amidst this chaos. “This is my house, and you don’t live here anymore. We have an agreement.”

“What fucking agreement? To stab me in the back and kick me out of my own house? What did you do, Birdie? What the fuck did you do?”

“Blake, please don’t make a scene.”

“That’s all you care about. Your image, always protecting your dirty secrets, always pretending to be the fucking victim. Who has been protecting those secrets for you all these years? Who has been running to your rescue all this time like a damn dog? I ran down here the second I…”

“The second you what? The second you lost the live feed from the security system you installed? The one you used as an excuse to watch my every move?”

He stumbles on his words, proving my suspicions true. “Everything I do is to protect you.”

“No. If that’s true, you would have been here last night when I was terrified out of my skin because that psycho broke into my house again. You’d have been by my side instead of spending the night with God knows whom, getting wasted in a shithole. But no, you only rush down here when you lose control over your possession. That’s what you do, Blake.”

“What about you? What did you do, Birdie?”

“What are you talking about?”

“After your call with Martha, what did you do?”

The patches of my courage rip. Is he referring to what I did to Saldana’s book or what I’ve planned with Adriana?

“Why wouldn’t you let your agent call your manager to resolve the problem with Saldana?” Blake insists. “Why would you turn off the cameras in your office before you leave without telling anyone where you’re going? What did you do, Birdie?”

He knows. Blake knows everything. “You’re wasted. Please leave.”

“I know you better than anyone, sweetheart. Why did you turn off the cameras, Birdie? What did you not want me to see? Will you tell your new savior? Do you think he’s gonna stay and protect you after he finds out what a monstrous little bitch like you is capable of?”

Morra steps in between us. “That’s enough! She asked you to leave, Mr. Abel. If you don’t remove yourself, we’ll have to remove you by force.”

Blake shoves Morra but barely moves him an inch. “Don’t tell me what to do in my own goddam house! I’m not leaving!” Blake’s expression darkens, his gaze boring into mine with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. “I can’t live without you, Birdie. I did everything for you. You can’t leave me. You’re mine.”

“Please, go, Blake. I’m begging you,” I plead, my voice thick with choking tears.

His face twists in fury as he pushes past everyone and lunges at me. I scream, my steps faltering back, but Morra uses his body as a shield between me and Blake. He grabs Blake’s arms, incapacitating my husband in swift moves.

“Get your hands off me!” Blake barks, struggling against Morra’s iron grip. “This is my wife! I do whatever I want to her whenever I want. If I wanna fuck her in front of all of you right now, you can’t stop me.”

My skin crawls at the obscenities streaming from his mouth. How did we get here? How could I’ve been so blind all these years to what my husband is capable of? How did I end up dragged to this level of disrespect and malice?

Morra’s hand balls into a fist and punches Blake in the face. “This is not a way to talk in front of a lady. Apologize.”

“Apologize?” Blake laughs hysterically. “To the lady? You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into, boy. You’re nothing but a fucking pawn in that bitch’s game.”

Morra growls, his fist ready for the second punch, but I yell, “No, Mr. Morra, please just let him go.”

He glances at me over his shoulder for a second before he nods at his team. “The next time I hear you disrespect a woman, I’ll punch you silent.”

Two of the men take Blake by the arms and drag him toward the door. He kicks and flails, and then his wild eyes meet mine again. “This isn’t over, Birdie. I’m not letting you go. You’re mine, you hear me? Mine!”