Page 30 of Give Me Three

I shook my head. “No. Came home and got drunk.”

Spencer sighed. “Go get some sleep,” he told me, his voice quiet and filled with pain for me. I hated it. Hated that he’d seen me at my lowest. “You need it. Look at this with a clearer head when you wake up, okay? Maybe all you two need is a little bit of space—give Zeppelin that and see if maybe he comes to make things right.”

I just nodded my head and stood from the bar stool, heading to my room. I heard Spencer turn on the water in the sink, no doubt to wash the dishes we’d used. Normally, I’d tell him to leave it, but honestly, I couldn’t bring myself to give enough of a fuck about him doing my dishes when he now had his own home to take care of.

I was too tired and bone-deep weary to care about anything.

CHAPTER 21

Zeppelin

Today was shitty. I hadn’t been able to sleep after making Jaxon leave, and once I began to calm down, I realized just how much I’d overreacted. All I’d been able to focus on at the time was him telling Logan my business, but once I laid there in bed beside Eros, who was unaware of what I’d just done, and mulled over his words, I realized he was just trying to help me.

I’d been a fucking douchebag, and I had a lot of groveling ahead of me to do with both Eros and Jaxon. Because Eros was pissed at me—livid, in fact. He’d yelled at me this morning when he woke up and found Jaxon gone, found out what I’d done, and he was so furious that he hadn’t ordered me my usual breakfast and coffee. When I’d texted him asking what he wanted for lunch so I could send him something since my appointment was running over and I wouldn’t be able to meet up with him, he’d told me he’d rather starve than see me right then.

It’d cut—deep. But I knew I deserved it. I’d fucked up big time.

I lifted my phone to my ear, dialing Jaxon’s number—which I’d been doing all fucking day—but just like the last thirty times I’d called him, his phone was off, going straight to the automated message that told me he didn’t have a voicemail box set up.

I growled my frustration and shoved my phone into my pocket before pushing out the front door of the shop, turning to lock it so I could head home, where my husband could yell at me some more. Once the lock slid into place, I turned away?—

And got punched right in the fucking face.

I stumbled, my back slamming against the brick wall of the shop. Blood spilled down my chin, my teeththrobbing. I glared at Logan, who was standing in front of me, anger brewing in his eyes, his muscles tensed. He was wearing a pair of black cargo pants with chains all over them, with a black t-shirt beneath a black leather jacket. His hair was messy, and when his fingers curled into another fist, I saw the rings on his fingers.

“Punching someone with rings is a fucking low blow,” I snarled, pushing off the wall, my own temper flaring. If Logan wanted a fight, I was more than happy to give him one. Because I neededsomewherefor all this rage to go. All this self-hatred and self-loathing.

“Breaking up with a man who only wanted to help you because you’re an insecure pussy is even lower,” Logan sneered at me, his lips twisted in disgust. My stomach curdled, even as my anger burned hotter. “Iwarnedyou not to fucking hurt him, Zeppelin.”

I stepped closer to him. “You got feelings for your fucking father-in-law?” I snarled. “You’re always coming to his fucking?—”

Logan punched me in the face again. I spit out blood, then barked out a cold laugh before tackling him to the ground, shoving my fist into his gut, my other hand quickly catching him in the face. He wrapped a hand around my throat, constricting my airflow, before flipping us. I vaguely heard someone shouting at us, but Logan and I were too blind to the rage pulsing through us.

We met each other blow for blow, turning each other into bloody messes. My nose was broken. His eye was quickly swelling. Both of our lips were bleeding, and my throat was raw and aching from how tightly he’d gripped it when flipping us over.

Blue and red lights lit up the darkening area, and then cops were pulling us apart and yanking us to our feet. Logan spat blood at my face, making it land on my cheek. I snarled and tried yanking away from the officer holding me back, but another joined in before they spun me around and slammed me against the brick wall, making my chin bounce off it roughly.

“You have the right to remain silent…”

I growled low in my throat, coughing after as I rested my forehead against the rough, brick exterior of my tattoo shop.

What a fucking shitshow this day had turned out to be. And I hadn’t done a single fucking thing to fix the shit I broke. Instead, I’d only accumulated more fucking problems.

Fuck.

“Barefield, Hendrix, let’s go,” an officer said, pulling open the holding cell door. Logan and I both stood to our feet to exit theholding cell. He was still stewing, his anger boiling inside of him, but the fight had died out of me. I was tired, and I just wanted to fix things between me and Jax and work this shit out with my husband.

I was too tired to give the energy needed to continue this fight with Logan.

After we were given our things, Logan shoulder-checked me on his way past me, and I gritted my teeth. I was glad Jaxon had someone like Logan in his corner, butfuck, I wanted to put that kid in his fucking place sometimes. He could be a real dick… though this time, it wasn’t misplaced. I’d earned that beating. I knew it just as well as he did.

I followed him down the hall before we walked through a door, emerging into the station lobby. Jaxon was leaning against the wall, and Eros was sitting a few seats away from him, pain on his features as he gazed at Jaxon. Jaxon looked rough. His hair was untidy, and his eyes were pinched as he glanced at me before looking at Logan, his jaw tightening, disappointment brewing in his dark eyes.

Spencer and Ezra stood from the seats next to him, Ezra shooting my husband a dirty look before turning to look at me, his mouth screwing inseveredislike.

I ignored him.

“Jaxon—” I rasped, my throat raw and aching. I stepped toward him, but Logan turned, pushing a hand against my chest. I glared at him and physically bit my tongue to keep from rising to the challenge he presented.