Chapter Twenty-two

Liam

"Tell me have you fucked her?" Karen asked with a ferocious vulnerability that could easily disarm just about anyone but me.

My initial surprise by her question morphed into annoyance.

"What are you talking about?" I countered, my voice flat.

Karen narrowed her eyes, her nostrils flaring. "Don't play dumb, Liam. I saw the way you were dancing with her. The way you were looking at her, you both were entangled in front of everyone." Contempt dripped from each word.

"We were just dancing, Karen," I said, enunciating each word carefully. "There's nothing more to it."

"Really?" she scoffed. "You expect me to believe that? You barely acknowledged me the whole night, and then you're practically making out with Vanessa on the dance floor?"

Her words stung a little. They were laced with truth, and the truth was uncomfortable. I had been drawn to Vanessa, captivated by her energy and beauty.

"Look," I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Yes, Vanessa is attractive. And yes, the dance was… electric. But that's all it was. End of story."

Karen narrowed her eyes, unconvinced. "You better be telling the truth, Liam," she warned, her voice low and dangerous. "Because if I find out otherwise…" She left the threat hanging in the air….

"Or what will happen, Karen?" I snapped. My frustration boiled over. "You'll divorce me? Me, the same man you sprung an open marriage on during our wedding night? Like who does that?"

A flicker of guilt crossed her face, replaced by a defensive tone. "That was just a moment of weakness, Liam. Don't hold it over me."

"A moment of weakness?" I scoffed. "Come on now, Karen. In this marriage, I've been the picture of fidelity. You, on the other hand, have a string of questionable relationships."

"What questionable relationships?" she demanded, her voice rising.

"Don't play innocent," I retorted. "Your tennis instructor, your fitness coach, and your 'business associate' Harry!. And the worst part, Karen, even if you never slept with them, you go out of your way to rub them in my face. How do you think that makes me feel?"

Silence hung heavy in the air. Karen's face paled, and for a moment, a flicker of understanding seemed to flicker in her eyes.

"So, is Vanessa, that low-life actress wannabe your means of revenge?" she finally asked, her voice laced with a hint of accusation. "Some way to rub it in my face?"

I threw my hands up in exasperation. "This isn't about revenge, Karen! I'm not sleeping with Vanessa, or anyone for that matter. How else do I have to convince you?" My voice echoed in the room. "Should I say it in French? Italian? German? What language will make you finally believe me and let me get some sleep?"

Tears welled up in Karen's eyes. "You're just yelling because you know you're not telling the truth," she choked out. "I saw what I saw, Liam."

My patience wore thin. "Fine," I said through gritted teeth. "Since you're going to be a thorn in my side all night, you can have the room to yourself." I grabbed a pillow and stormed toward the door.

Karen, however, wasn't done. She flung herself in front of the doorway, blocking my escape. "You're not going anywhere," she declared.

Fury surged through me. Without a word, I dropped my pillow on the floor and scooped her up, I deposited her gently on the bed. It wasn't meant to be harsh, just a way to bypass the barricade. Grabbing my pillow, I stormed past her, muttering, "Goodnight," and slammed the door behind me.

*************

Richard

The ride home was a tense affair. I stole glances at Vanessa, her jaw clenched tight, a storm brewing behind her icy blue eyes. My attempts at conversation were met with curt replies, barely more than a mumble.

I knew she was still fuming about the gala, about my possessive outburst. But from my perspective, she was in the wrong. She was my girl, my property – well, not property exactly, but you get the picture.

And there she was, grinding all over Liam on the dance floor.

Considering what Karen had hinted in my ear earlier, who could blame me? Hell, she was lucky it was just a bruise on her arm.

Reaching my apartment, the tension crackled in the air as Vanessa kicked off her shoes and headed straight for the bedroom,her back stiff. "Are you still mad at me?" I blurted out, needing to break the ice.

She stopped, but didn't turn. "What do you think, Richard? You promised you wouldn't hurt me again." Her voice was laced with ice, a stark contrast to the warmth of the dance floor.

Guilt gnawed at me. "Look, I'm sorry I squeezed your arm," I conceded. "But try to see it from my perspective. Would you be okay if you saw me dancing all over another woman?"

Vanessa finally turned, her eyes flashing. "Maybe you have the right to be jealous," she admitted, "but squeezing my arm like you wanted to rip it off wasn't the answer."

Her words struck a chord. True, squeezing her arm was out of line. Hell, I'd done much worse to other women for far less in the past. Vanessa was my attempt at going straight, being a gentleman, and clearly, I was failing miserably. Just as I opened my mouth to apologize again, my phone buzzed to life.

The urge was to ignore it, to focus on repairing the damage with Vanessa. But it rang again, insistent. "Maybe you should answer it," Vanessa sighed.

With that, she took off her clothes and slipped into the bathroom, leaving me alone with the persistent ringing and the sinking feeling in my gut that something had gone wrong for anyone to call me by this time of the night.

Glancing at the caller ID, I saw Byron's name. Answering the phone, I braced myself for whatever trouble he was brewing. "Richard, we got a problem," his voice crackled through the line.

"What is it?" I asked,already turning back towards the bedroom.

"That stubborn tenant, Tyrone, the one you let go this afternoon? Yeah well, he tried to file a complaint against us at the precinct for wrongful arrest amongst other things."

My blood ran cold. The guy I showed mercy to was trying to screw me over? "We'll handle it," I forced a calm tone. "I'm on my way."

Vanessa stepped out of the shower, a towel wrapped around her hair, her face etched with concern. "Everything alright?" she asked. "Everything is ok, I just gotta head down to the station," I said. "There's an issue I need to sort out, and it can't wait till tomorrow. I'll be back soon."

Before she could say a word, I had already grabbed my jacket, and literally ran out of the apartment.