Chapter 40

CHAPTER FORTY

JENSEN

K ate's phone sits on her nightstand as I sit beside her and read my latest birthing book. This one is okay, but the previous read definitely offered more.

I look at her phone again. I know I shouldn't; it's her privacy I'd be invading, but I need to know who's been bothering her. My wife is tough and doesn't need me to fight her battles. But that doesn't mean I can keep away. I can't keep away.

As she sleeps peacefully beside me, I try to keep my busy mind from wandering, trying to work out who is trying to hurt the woman I love. The woman who's saved me in ways she doesn't even know. I no longer wake up in cold sweats, nor do I toss and turn in the night, trying to fight back nightmares of rejection.

She's cured that. She's cured me.

I'm ten seconds away from reaching for her cell when mine starts buzzing on the side, and I snatch it up before it wakes Kate.

Easton

Are you around for a call?

He never texts or calls me.

Fuck.

Hitting dial, I throw on a pair of sweats and stride through to the kitchen. Pacing the floor, I wait for the international dial tone, and Easton picks up on the second ring.

"Jensen?"

"Yeah, all okay?" I get straight to the point.

"Is Kate okay?" he asks in a concerned tone.

"She's been…off. Why? What the fu?—"

"Violet and Henry have been sending her shit again, you know, since the wedding a few days ago. I just got off the phone with Mom, and she sounded livid that they hadn't been invited to the wedding." He laughs darkly. "Even though they said they wanted nothing to do with you both, they still expect an RSVP to decline." He draws in a deep breath. "They cut her out the will and told her she isn't welcome back at their house ever again."

Silence.

I say fucking nothing because the only thoughts I have right now are murderous ones, and I doubt Easton wants to hear in which end of the garden he can find his parents buried.

"Jensen?" he breaks the silence first.

"I'm here," I push out, my blood boiling. "But I'm heading over there right now."

"I was afraid you'd do this," he puffs out.

"Afraid I'll go tell your asshole parents where to shove it? Glad I haven't disappointed."

"You won't change their mind, Jensen. I told you that at the wedding."

Snatching up my training hoodie and shoving my feet in my black Nike sneakers, I grab my car keys and head for the front door. "And I told you I'd do anything for her. I might not be a hotshot professional with degrees coming out my ass, but I am her warrior, and like hell am I standing by to watch them walk all over my wife. I couldn't give a fuck if I change their minds or not. This is about my girl and her alone."

It's past eleven p.m. when I pull up along the sidewalk outside their house.

Almost immediately, the front bedroom illuminates, and I watch as a silhouette crosses the room and stands at the window, checking to see who's there.

That's right, Violet, it's your favorite son-in-law. Come let me in for a cup of cocoa and a friendly catch up.

I waste no time pushing past the black iron gate that leads through their front garden and up to the grand white porch. I'm surprised it's unlocked. Perhaps they were expecting me.

Raising my hand to knock once, I'm saved the trouble as the door swings open, and Henry stands there in his tartan nightwear and robe.

"Nice pants," I say, taking in the red and green checkered print.

"What the hell do you want?" he bites.

Leaning back slightly, my hands in the pockets of my sweatpants, I check out the neighborhood. "That's not a very nice way to greet your new son-in-law, especially out in public."

He leans into me, a sneer right across his face. "You're no family of mine. Now, fuck off."

I shake my head. "Nah. I guess you'll have to keep me on your porch, bringing down your image, until you let me in."

His hand shoots out as he shocks me and grabs me by the forearm, pulling me into the entryway before shutting the door behind him.

The house is just as I remembered it when I last ‘visited.' The one photo they had of Kate at her graduation has been replaced by a recent shot of them meeting the governor.

Fitting.

"Take him through to the study, Henry," Violet bites as she makes her way down the stairs in nightwear, her long blonde-gray hair in overnight curlers.

Shaking my head, I stay rooted to the spot. "Nah, no need. What I have to say won't take too long."

"We don't need you to say anything. We heard enough the last time you paid us a pleasant visit. I think enough insults were slung at us then." Violet takes the last step and comes to stand next to her husband. Both of their cold faces are twisted with anger.

Looking up at the ceiling, I nod a couple of times and smile.

Dropping my head, I look them both in the eyes. "I've spent the last six months proving to your daughter that I'm not the man she thought I was. She made assumptions about me based on my reputation and an incident one night in a bar. On the outside, she comes across as guarded and reserved. I've been obsessed with your daughter for way longer than you know or probably care about. Despite the fact she knew nothing about me, I'd worked everything out about her. The only thing to evade me was why she was the way she was." Offering a pitiful smile to them both, I press on. "Tell me, do you still have the lock on her bedroom door?"

They look at each other, clearly surprised that I know. "I have no idea what you're referring to, and I think it's best you leave," Henry rushes out.

"I know I annoy you, so I'll go," I reply, turning to head out. But then I flip back around and snap my fingers. "Oh, yeah, I nearly forgot…"

Finally, after months of holding in my rage, I show the colors in me that my family will never see. Their faces drop as I sneer at them in a way I know they've never seen before. "So this is how it's gonna go from now on. You're going to do exactly what your daughter wants, and that's to leave her the fuck alone. And in return, I'm also going to do what she wants, which is to allow you to retain the air circulating in your lungs."

"Are you threatening us?" Henry asks, his voice filled with fear even though he tries to hide it.

"Hmmm." I scratch my chin. "I guess I am, yeah. You see, I'd die for my wife and her honor, but I'd also kill for her happiness. And you two—" I point between them. "You make her unhappy. My wife and I are the same. We think the same and operate in the same way. Internally, she's my dead ringer—she laughs, I laugh; she cries, I cry. She gets hurt, well, that's the only area where we differ, because I get even."