Page 33 of Chaos
This possessive beast comes from nowhere with her. I don’t think I could stop myself.
“Let go. Now.” I punctuate each word.
He drops his grip and holds his arms up.
“Jax, calm down. She’s my ex-wife. I can do and say whatever the fuck I want. She deserves it. She ran out on me.”
I take a step forward, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck, and pull him to his feet as Sofia scuffles out of the way.
“I fucking wonder why,” I sneer.
“I didn’t hurt her. I stopped her from hitting me.”
I scoff. Pathetic excuse of a man.
I look over to Sofia and already see the angry red mark forming on her wrist as she rubs it.
“You can’t get me fired.” He looks up at me, confused, realization settling as I pull back my fist and launch it straight into his nose.
The girls all erupt into screams, but that just spurs me on further.
“Speak to her like that again, I’ll rip your fucking tongue out.”
He collapses on to the chair, blood spilling down his face.
“What the hell are you doing? You really going to do this over that whore?” He wipes his nose.
I shake my head, white rage taking over. Lunging forward, I grab him by his brown hair and smash him face first into the metal table in front of him.
His friends stand. I puff my chest, looking between them and their now unconscious friend on the table.
“Sit the fuck back down, unless you want to take a nap with him?”
They back away, slowly sitting back down, their faces pale.
The girls are all huddled in the corner, all except Sofia. The door clicks shut, and I don’t waste a second in following her. I stride out of the room, searching the busy room for the maroon hair I’m desperate for.
I’ve let this woman invade my mind for two years. Some kind of divine intervention landed her back on my lap tonight.
I’m not letting her go a second time. I’ve regretted it every day since.
NINETEEN
SOFIA
Song- Sugar, Sleep Token.
Slamming the door shut to the dressing room, I step in front of the full-length mirror.
I look hot. I’ve worked hard to try to get my body back after Maeve’s birth.
Clearly not hard enough.
My body changed. I have faint stretch marks on my hips. I hate them. That’s why I wear these high waisted shorts. My ass is still out, but my hips are covered.
Wiping away a stray tear with the back of my hand, I can’t go back in there. I need to go and find Gil and see if I can get on the main stage instead.
Tossing the notes from my bra onto the table, it’s not enough.