You Know I Love You: Book 1, You Know Me duet (You Are Mine 3)

by Willow Winters

  I stare him in the eyes as I ask, “What is it you really want? You know you’ve provided drugs to clients before.” I cock my head to the side as I ask, “Are we changing the policy?”

  “I’ve never given anyone anything illegal,” he states and I notice how he stiffens slightly but still tries to act casual as he shrugs and adds, “There’s no change to the policy.”

  My wife has this thing she does. It’s a smile I hate. A smirk really. I hate it when she gives it to me. It’s one that tells me she knows I’m full of shit. While I sit here, staring at this asshole, I can feel the corner of my lips tug up into that sarcastic smirk. It doesn’t stay there for long, though.

  “Did you know the coke was laced?” James asks me and it takes a moment for the question to register.

  The coke I gave Tony.

  That doesn’t make sense. Our shit is clean and pure and the best there is.

  It’s also provided to us in the recreation room by the company.

  “I wouldn’t know a thing about that.” It’s the only answer I can force out. Keeping a hard stare on my face even as my blood heats hotter and hotter.

  Is he serious? It was laced?

  I know the laws in and out. I can’t admit to any knowledge that could lead back to me. I can accuse him, but not admit to participation or any foresight of drugs being gifted so freely when asked.

  I raise my hand as if I’m the one in the wrong. The one who misspoke. “None of it matters anyway. I told you, I quit.”

  “And I told you, that you—”

  “I’m done,” I say and my words come out hard as I stand up and tower over the desk. James is quick to get up, tugging at one sleeve and then the other on his suit. “I thought you had something to tell me. Something useful and not some delusion that you could use to blackmail me.”

  His eyes glint with a darkness at my words. “It’s not blackmail. I haven’t—”

  “Fuck you, James,” I say, cutting him off as I turn my back to him to stalk out of the room. It’ll be the last time I come here.

  “You know what I can do to you,” James says the threat to my back.

  “I’m calling your bluff,” I respond out of anger and instantly regret it, but I don’t stop. All the weeks of not knowing if him or Samantha would tell the cops what happened, all the guilt and denial rise up in my chest and cause the next words come out without my consent. “Tell them what happened.”

  Just the thought of the truth getting out lifts a weight off of me.

  “Tell them I gave him the coke. Tell them I set him up to get high and came back to him dead. Tell the press. Tell everyone,” I say and my heart beats faster and faster as my hands ball into white-knuckled fists. I realize what I’ve just done. I realize I’ve said it out loud. But I don’t care. It doesn’t change anything. None of it matters anymore.

  “It’s murder, Evan, and you know it,” James says as I face the door to leave. Not bothering to acknowledge him in the least.

  Yes, it’s murder. And it’s not the first time something’s happened under my watch. But it’s the last. I’m done with this shit and this life.

  I didn’t lace a damn thing. If that stash was messed with, it wasn’t me and I’m not going down for a crime I didn’t commit. I’ll own up to everything else.

  I want to pay for my sins and chase what truly matters to me.

  A love I took for granted. A love I don’t know if I can salvage.

  Kat

  Pulled in every direction,

  Too dizzy to stay still.

  My feet stumble beneath me,

  My body frozen from the chill.

  No more of being numb and weak,

  No more of waiting, left in vain.

  I’ve had enough of lies,

  I’ve had enough of pain.

  The buzz from the townhouse speaker rouses me from my seat in the dining room. Buzz. Buzz. It’s an annoying high-pitched sound that I can’t stand.

  My head’s already throbbing. It’s been like this for hours, ever since I got home and took the test. I can’t go back and look at it. It’s hard enough to wrap my head around everything that’s happening.

  And the guilt …

  As I walk to the front of the townhouse, hustling down the stairs so I don’t have to hear that damn noise again, I realize it’s nearly nine and I’m still in my pajamas. At least I have pants on, but the matching light gray cotton shirt has a large spot of coffee on the front and I’m sure my hair’s a mess.

  “Who is it?” I ask in a voice that sounds more together than I feel as I push the button down and then release it. The only person I can think of is Henry, Evan’s father.

  “Sorry to bother you, I was just hoping for a quick meeting,” a voice says on the other side and it takes me a moment to recognize it.

  “Jacob?” I say into the intercom.

  “I hope you don’t mind. I was in the area and wanted to stop by,” he replies and his voice breaks up over the speaker.

  I know it’s rude to make him wait, it’s unkind not to answer him immediately, but this is so unexpected. I don’t know how to react or respond.

  “I’m not quite dressed for company,” I tell him and then close my eyes from embarrassment. He still hasn’t signed with the agency and I haven’t spoken to him since running into him on the street.

  “That’s all right with me,” he answers easily and I lean into the button, keeping it held down as my head throbs again and my eyes close with frustration.

  “Is it all right if I come up?”

  “Of course,” I answer out of instinct. “Come on up,” I tell him and then hit the buzzer to let him up. My heart races as I consider why he’s here. I know why, deep down. It’s my fault. I led him on.

  A sarcastic laugh leaves me as I throw my head back and wipe my tired eyes with my hands. How self-centered and presumptuous I am to think he’s here for anything other than business. I ignore the guilt and the worry that riddle my body and glance in the large oval mirror in the foyer as I wait for Jacob to make his way up the stairs.

  There are bags under my eyes and a smattering of eyeliner from yesterday still remaining. I wipe carefully under them and pull my hair back, but I still don’t look professional. My simple black leggings and a baggy shirt are made somewhat better by slipping on a crocheted sweater. It’s better than nothing, laid back at the very best. I find it hard to care that much about my appearance as I open the front door.

  I’m caught off guard as he walks up the stairs and comes into view. Of course I look like hell when he looks charming in a relaxed kind of way. His hair is ruffled, but probably gelled to look like it’s slightly messy. It’s his stubble, though, that gets me. I have a type, and Jacob fits that type to a T. Maybe that’s how I know this is going to be trouble.

  He gives me a wide smile and doesn’t seem to care about my appearance in the least.

  “I was just going to call it an early night,” I lie, trying to stand with dignity in front of Jacob.

  “Oh shit, I’m sorry, Kat.” It’s odd hearing him call me Kat. Most of my clients don’t use my nickname. It’s too casual. A type of casual I usually put an end to immediately, but I can’t bring myself to correct him.

  “What are you doing here, Jacob?” I ask warily. We don’t have an appointment, and quite frankly I’m not in a state to be professional.

  “It’s Jake, remember?” he answers playfully and God help me, but I blush. “I was wondering if I could maybe take you out for coffee? I was hoping for dinner. If not tonight, then …”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t think that’s something,” I stammer over my words. “Jacob …” I clear my throat and continue, “Jake, I hope I didn’t give you the wrong impression.” I suck in a breath and push the stray hairs out of my face.

  “It’s nothing at all that you did, I just,” he pauses to take a deep breath and smiles before letting out a small laugh. “It was stupid of me. I’m sorry, Kat. I just thought maybe there was a little att
raction on your side?” he asks although it’s a statement.

  “Jake, I’m …” I want to say married, taken, in love with another man. The last line would be true. I’ll always love Evan, and nothing will ever change that.

  “I thought maybe you would like some company,” he states, tilting his head as he leans against the wall. The muscles on his shoulders ripple as he does it. “I went through something a bit ago and I know I could use a distraction.”

  A distraction would be nice. I can’t help that the thought makes me more relaxed each second that passes.

  His half smile and gentle sigh are what do me in as he shrugs and slips his hands into his pockets. “I thought maybe you needed someone. Or that you’d like the company.” He’s even more handsome when he looks at me like that. It’s a look that makes me feel warmth running through me. Compassion and understanding.

  I’ve never been so tempted in my life. I so desperately need someone. I need someone to pick me up and force me to think about something else, because I’m a hopeless wreck.

  “It’s very sweet of you and I won’t lie,” I start to say and then hesitate to finish the thought, but settle on the basic truth. “I wouldn’t act on anything because I just can’t right now. I would never forgive myself and it wouldn’t be fair to you.” My words are rushed at the end, trying to defend my decision and assuage me of the guilt I’m feeling.

  “Hey,” Jacob says with an easy tone that breaks through the anxiety washing over me. His reassuring voice forces me to look into his gentle gaze. It’s comforting and relaxing and makes me not trust myself. “How about this? How about you call me if you think you want to hang out or talk, or whatever it is that’s on your mind?” he asks in a soothing tone that’s almost melodic. It calms me, each word a consoling balm to the hurt that rages through my body.

  I want that. More than anything, I want this pain that I feel to stop. I would give anything to make it go away. Jacob could do that, but it would be short-lived. I blink away the haze of lust, the cloud of want and desire leaving me slowly, very slowly. I clear my throat and look him in the eyes as I tell him, “I can’t.”

  “’Cause we’re going to work together?” he asks, although the way he tilts his head and strains his words makes it more than obvious that he knows why I can’t. My lips form a thin straight line as I shake my head no.

  “You love him?”

  “I do, but that’s not why. I’m just—I’m not okay and I need to figure things out …” I can’t finish the thought, but thankfully I don’t have to.

  “I understand,” Jacob says and runs his hand through his thick hair. My eyes are caught in his as I nod in thanks.

  “Let’s pretend this didn’t happen then?”

  “I’d rather you remember,” he says with a grin that makes me crave him more. “I’ll be here when you’re ready,” he says and then turns to leave. To walk away from me and leave me alone in my misery, just as I asked.

  For a second I want to reach out and stop him from leaving; I don’t want to go back to what’s waiting for me. I don’t want to face what I have to do.

  But my fingers grip the edge of the foyer doorway as Jacob turns away and heads to the front door.

  “I’ll talk to you later then?”

  I should say no. I should cut off whatever this is. It’s dangerous and I can feel myself heading toward an edge where I won’t be able to balance. I can see myself falling. And that’s why I give him a small smile and nod my head. “Later,” I say, the word slipping from my lips like a sin.

  Evan

  The radio in the car is silenced as I turn off the ignition. It’s not often I get a parking spot so close to the townhouse. It was a sacrifice we made when we bought the place a few years ago.

  My head falls back against the leather headrest and I stare up at the building, at the top two floors on the right side, knowing that Kat’s in there. So close, but so damn far away just the same.

  My phone pings just as I open the door to get out and drag my sorry ass up to tell her everything. To lay it all out there, beg for her forgiveness, her understanding. But most importantly for her to stay with me. I’ll give her space and time. I’ll give her everything she asks. All I need is a deadline or something to work toward. I need her.

  If she can still love me, after all I put her through and everything ahead of us, then we can get through anything.

  I expect it to be Kat who messaged, but it’s not her that texted me. It’s Samantha.

  I heard you quit.

  News travels fast, I respond quickly and then debate on how to tell her I won’t be responding anymore to her. It’s not fair to my wife and now that I’ve left the company, there’s no reason to have any type of relationship with her.

  What about what happened?

  I stare at the text on my phone as the lights in my car dim, signaling me to leave. She follows up the question with another that makes my stomach churn. He knows about what happened and you know he won’t let it go. He’ll hang this over your head until he gets what he wants.

  My brow knits as I read the message. I don’t give a shit what he knows or what he wants. For a moment, I think maybe she’s messaging the wrong person. I settle on my response.

  I have nothing to give him.

  He knows about us, Evan.

  I stare at the text message, letting it sink in.

  You told him? I ask her, my gaze shifting from the phone to the lit townhouse building off the busy city street. The lights are on in her office and the living room. So close. She’s so close.

  My phone vibrates in my hand and I look back down to see her response. He’s known for years.

  My hand clenches tight as I realize he’s been playing me. He’s never let on that he knew I fucked his wife.

  My first instinct is to blame Sam. You didn’t tell me you told him, I text and then hate myself for it. I didn’t know she was married; we were both high and I wanted any excuse to end things with Kat.

  I didn’t think he cared.

  It was years ago. So now what? I swallow the ball of heat rising in my throat. It doesn’t change anything. If he wants to be pissed, he can be pissed.

  I don’t see him letting this go. Not when he can get back at you. You need to be careful.

  A frustrated groan travels up my throat.

  Fuck him. He can do what he wants, but I’m not his bitch.

  My phone immediately vibrates as I slip it into my pocket, and I cuss as I take it back out. Not to read her response, only to shut it off, silencing it and ignoring all the problems that wait for me. I’m done with both of them. I’m done with it all.

  I swallow thickly and step out into the cool night, the city traffic surrounding me as I shut the car door and leave it all behind.

  Everything is crumbling around me, but the only thing I care about is losing Kat. I don’t see how I can hold on to her when I don’t have a plan and I’ve lost control.

  She needs a better man, and I swear I can be one. We’ll start over and do it right this time.

  I run my hand down my face. Hitting the lock, the car beeps and the bright headlights flash in the dark of the night. The sounds of the city streets are loud as I walk up the sidewalk, past men and women who carry on with their busy lives and don’t have a clue how mine is being ripped apart.

  I’ll confess and then pack a box, and let her know it’s only a separation and that even after I’ll still love her and want her. That I’ll do anything. I’ll keep coming back, fighting for her. I’m not saying goodbye, I’m only doing what she asks because I love her and I know she needs time.

  The keys jingle in my hand as I make my way home. Every second I’m trying to think of the best way to come clean about everything to Kat. She deserves to know, even if she hates me once she finds out. I have to tell her first.

  A heavy breath leaves me as I turn the lock and walk into the building, running a hand over my hair and trying to block the image of her disappointment from my mi
nd.

  I can imagine how her deep green eyes will widen, how her lips will part and how she’ll think I’m lying at first. I already know how she’ll look at me, how she’ll question who I am and why or if, she loves me.

  My footsteps are heavy as I grip the iron railing and head to the top of the stairwell, to our home we’ve built together, the one she’s kicked me out of. My gut feels heavy, churning with a sickness that rises to my chest as I hear her voice and recall the memory of her telling me to get out. My fingers wrap tighter around the rail, keeping me upright as I force myself to continue. I need to confess and come clean.

  I want Kat back and the life we once had. It’s all I need to live.

  Every thought is lost at the sight in front of me. My blood turns ice cold when I stop at the top of the stairs where Kat’s talking to that asshole from the café. Her voice is kind and nurturing and the way she offers him a sad smile … fuck no.

  My legs feel like they’re trembling; my body’s shaking from the sight of him. Jacob, the supposed client Kat said was no one. No one. Yet he stands only feet away from the front door.

  Anger rises quickly as I watch them. I knew there was something between them. I could tell. I know my wife and I know men like this prick.

  “You motherfucker,” I sneer the words without thinking twice. The door to my townhouse is still cracked when this dumb fuck looks up at me.

  “What are you doing?” Kat calls out with shock as she stands in the doorway.

  Kat

  I’d recognize Evan’s voice anywhere, but the anger is terrifyingly new. The second I grip the cold handle and open the door, my body freezes and the shock makes my mouth hang open and my eyes go wide. My heart beats in what feels like slow motion.

  “Stop it!” I scream at him. My words echo in my head as he slams his fist against Jacob’s jaw. It’s instantly red and swollen and Evan’s already got his other fist up.