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Chapter 12 ~ Ridiculous
Alex
The door slams shut behind me as I take in the sight before me–Athena flushed and laughing, her head tipped back against the counter, a half–empty bottle of vodka between her and Noah.
Am I losing my mind?
Athena has always been laid back. Never did anything out of the ordinary. I liked to call her plain in my head because of how easy
she was to read.
But now, standing here, I’m starting to wonder who the fuck I married.
My gaze locks onto the alcohol, then flicks to my wife. Her eyes are glassy, her movements slow.
Fucking drunk.
I shift my attention to Noah, standing too damn close to her. His casual smirk as he looks at me only fuels my anger and it feels
like I just might kill my cousin.
Have I missed something?
I have always entrusted her to him. For pick–ups. Anything she needed I assigned him. But now I’m starting to wonder if by doing
that I’ve been playing fucking cubid.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” My voice is cold, and sharp, demanding an answer.
Noah barely blinks, his smirk still in place and it takes so much strength not to knock him the fuck out.
“Playing cards. Having a drink. You should try it sometime.”
I take a step forward, my fists clenching. “Why did you give her alcohol?”
Noah tilts his head. “She’s a grown woman, Alex. She can make her own choices.”
My chest tightens with something foreign. A feeling I don’t understand but can’t suppress.
I tell myself it’s an annoyance–irritation at how sore my body is and not because of seeing my wife laugh so carelessly with
someone else.
But the truth is far more infuriating.
It’s laughing in my face.
I’ve never seen her like this.
Not with me.
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And that realization makes my blood boil.
I don’t love her. Hell, I’m about to divorce her.
So why do I suddenly want to rip my cousin’s throat out?
“She’s not just any woman, Noah. You know that.” I spit. Not caring what that makes me sound like.
Noah shrugs. “From how you’ve been treating her, I didn’t think you cared. Athena is my friend, so after you left her on the floor for your pretty little miss, I stepped in and after she cooked me a hot meal, we started having a drink. Are you jealous cuz?”
The words barely register before my fist connects with his face.
The sickening crack of bone shatters the air as blood spurts from Noah’s nose. He stumbles back, cursing, and I grab his shirt, slamming him against the wall. My pulse is a violent drum in my ears.
“Alex, what are you doing?!” Athena’s voice is shrill, panicked.
“You’re starting to make me angry, Noah. Wanna see what happens when you make me angry?” My voice vibrates through the
room.
“Alex, stop this!” Athena repeats and it angers me even more.
I barely hear her. My rage is blinding, all–consuming.
Noah wipes the blood from his face, wincing. “Fuck, man. What’s your problem?”
“The next time you get her drunk, I’ll shove the vodka bottle down your throat so hard, you’ll feel it in your ass!” I growl.
I turn to Athena, my chest rising and falling in harsh breaths. My gaze locks onto hers, and something sharp twists inside me.
The way she’s looking at me–wide–eyed, angry, but something else, too.
Hatred.
And yet, when she was looking at him, she was-
“I don’t like how you’re looking at him.” My voice is low, edged with something even I don’t recognize. “And I don’t like how
you’re looking at me.”
She scoffs, crossing her arms. “I don’t think anything to do with what I choose to do with my eyes should bother you. Have you lost your mind? Noah is your cousin, damit!”
I step into her space, closing the distance, and pressing her back against the kitchen island. My hand braces beside her arm as I
cage her in.
Noah shifts behind me, and I don’t bother looking at him when I say, “Get the fuck out.”
There’s a beat of silence before Noah exhales heavily. “You don’t know what you have, man.” He looks past me, directly at
Athena. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
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That only pisses me off more.
As the door clicks shut behind him, my hands curl into fists.
The air between Athena and me is thick and charged.
I search her face, trying to make sense of what I’m feeling.
Frustration?
Possessiveness?
I don’t know.
But my next words come out before I can stop them.
“How long have you been fucking my cousin?”
