The Last Dance Read Online Free PDF Page A

before he fell out of it.
    I got to Bryce just in time and heard her behind me.
    “He looks just like you,” she said coldly. I stiffened as I held him, knowing I had no choice but to face her. I turned with Bryce in my arms and saw her take in her son for the first time since his birth. I never wanted him to lay eyes on her. She had just taken that away from me.
    “Get out. I’m not even joking; I will fucking throw you out. You can’t do this!” I felt Bryce shaking in my arms from my hostility. Looking down at him, I smiled and rubbed the top of his head. “It’s okay, buddy.”
    “Don’t you miss it? The way we were? How hot it was?” she said, completely ignoring the baby in my arms.
    “No, I’ve moved on, you should too. I don’t want you coming here. It will only confuse him,” I said evenly, hoping to keep the conversation civil. She glared at Bryce, as if he was the reason for our separation, then turned to walk toward the front door.
    “He will always be the abortion I should have had.”
    I saw red at her words. “If you ever come back here, I’ll have you arrested. You’ll be served with a restraining order, bet on it,” I said, hot on her heels as I followed her out.
    “Don’t flatter yourself, Rhys. I won’t be back.”
    I slammed the door on her back, eliciting an enraged scream as it hit her in the ass. Violet was right, the porch was cursed.
    Fuck. Fuck. Why is she doing this?
    I felt my phone vibrate.
    V: I am sitting in the tub and could use a war story.
    I had been telling her tales over the phone last night that I’d heard over the years of BDSM scenarios gone wrong. They seemed to fascinate her. She had laughed hysterically. I loved that sound.
    R: Now is a bad time.
    V: Everything okay?
    R: Yes, just perfect. Enjoy your soak.
    I was too angry to think about my response to her until later that day.
    The more I thought about my behavior, the more I thought about her—Violet, not the evil bitch that showed up at my door. She was non-existent and I refused to entertain her. If she wanted me thinking about her, she’d failed.
    My thoughts were of the woman who had captured me completely with her body first, and then her words. I wanted to apologize to her, but disliked the idea of doing it over the phone. She’d put up with much worse from me, but she didn’t deserve it this morning, or then for that matter. How the hell could I make it up to her if I couldn’t see her, touch her?
    The image of the night I found her on that floor covered in blood flashed through my mind. I got her help text and made it to her house in fifteen minutes. I should have called the police, but I didn’t know where she was, so to be sure I went there first. The rest repeats on an endless cycle of slow motion when I think about it. The door was open, the screen closed, and I immediately felt a heaviness in my chest I never knew was possible. I opened the door while dialing, afraid to touch her. There was so much blood. There was no way I would ever recover if she was dead. I knew then I would never be the same without her in my life. When I reached her, I knelt down, checking for a pulse. It was there, weak, but there. I scooped her up in my arms, applying pressure to the source of the blood escaping her neck.
    She was alone in a house in Grand Cayman. Fuck.
    If she only knew how that affected me every day she’d been gone; how worried I was about her safety. She wasn’t concerned about it in the least, or if she was, I couldn’t tell. I didn’t want to scare her by voicing mine. Then again, I had gotten into her house through an unlocked door the night I confronted her about her husband.
    I’d never been anywhere close to doing anything like that with anyone else. I should have given her a chance to explain. Then maybe she wouldn’t be off on some island wondering where the hell my head was at, and why I didn’t tell her what I should have a month ago.
    The guilt I felt while she lay in that