As if they were discussing the stock market, Jeff got all serious. “Man… she is one seriously fantastic fuck. I mean, the hottest, tightest fuck you can imagine. But get real… she’s not marriage material. She doesn’t have the credentials, and you know she doesn’t fit into our world. Her dad’s a fisherman and her brother is a murderer, for Christ sake.”
I remember that my head started spinning as I listened in disbelief to his cruel words. And then I’ll never forget the last words I heard him say before I ran out of there.
“She’s not marriage material, gents,” Jeff said with a laugh and raised his beer in salute. “Casey Markham isn’t good enough for someone like me. She’s the one you want to fuck behind your wife’s back.”
Crushed. Devastated. Depressed.
I was all of that and more.
Brody had abandoned me, and now Jeff had humiliated me and abused the love and trust I gave him. I ran out of that beach house in tears, but no one saw me. No one ever knew I was there and had overheard Jeff.
I was absolutely despondent.
For about a day.
Then I realized something about myself. I had an epiphany.
My parents had raised me to be proud and strong. They raised me to be independent. They taught me that I could be anything that I wanted to be. It was all within my control.
So that is when I decided to take control of my life… most in particular, my love life, and I was never going to let another man hurt me again.
I called Jeff up the next day and just politely told him I couldn’t see him anymore. He asked me why, but I just graciously told him that things were too crazy in my life to be involved in a relationship. He acted a little put off, which I found to be heavily ironic given the way I knew he viewed me.
And from then on, I became the Casey Markham who called all the shots. I was the one that decided who was good enough for me. I was the one that made men fall to their knees and beg to have a chance with me. I was the one that targeted a certain type of man… one that could be easily manipulated and controlled, so I would never have to worry again about someone taking advantage of me.
I’ve used my face and my body to that advantage. I’ve ramped up my sexuality, and I’ve become very good at getting a man off so beautifully that he would never want me to leave his side. I became a woman that loves and appreciates sex… revels in the feelings and the release of it all. I use it to get what I want, and I do it all from deep within the safety of the walls I’ve built up around me.
I only see men who think they are better than everyone else. I target men just like Jeff Parkhurst, and I use them as my surrogates. I play the same game over and over again, figuring every notch in my bedpost is another vain, narcissistic asshole who isn’t getting one over on Casey Markham.
I do all of this playing by my rules and my rules only.
“Casey… have you been listening to a thing I’ve said?” Gabby grumbles.
“Yeah… sure. Jeff Parkhurst back and all,” I say absently, and my head swivels back to the right to look at the two men who were ogling me just a bit ago. I appraise them. There’s money there no doubt. By the fake tans and expensive jewelry both are sporting, I’m betting their vanity runs amok.
Just my type of men.
I push up out of my chair, a small feeling of guilt and emptiness settling into the pit of my stomach when I think about Tenn and all the ways in which he’s wormed his way inside my walls.
Too fucking perilous. I knew it from the start and was fool enough to break my own rules.
But I can’t let a man like him continue to occupy my thoughts. I can’t let him manipulate my actions. Gabby has done me a solid today and reminded me the type of woman that I am, and it’s time to get back to what I do best.
“I’ll be back in a bit,” I tell Gabby and then I start walking down the beach, swaying my hips and heading right for the two men who are staring hungrily at me.
Chapter 12
Tenn
I’m exhausted yet determined to find Casey tonight. I flew into Raleigh this morning, had a quick lunch with Zoey, then hightailed it to the Outer Banks where I checked into a hotel, took a shower, and then went on the hunt.
I’m on the hunt because Casey seems to have dropped off the face of the earth the last two days. We’ve gone from dirty talking phone calls with a few witty texts in between to nothing for almost forty-eight hours.
Without a doubt, I know something has happened to her. Oh, not anything ominous, because Kyle reassured me that he hadn’t heard anything bad from Andrea. But something caused her to go abruptly cold on me, and I’m going to find out what the fuck it was.
Then I’m going to kiss some sense in to her.
If that doesn’t work, I’ll fuck some sense in to her.
I pull up outside of The Last Call. It’s the only place I know to try as I completely bombed out when I went to her house. It was locked up tight, the lights were all off, and her Jeep was gone. While cruising for a parking spot since the lot is packed, I keep my eyes peeled for her Jeep but I don’t see it. This is disappointing because I figured best-case scenario is she’d be stuck working behind the bar and wouldn’t be able to escape me.
I finally find a spot and pull my bike in at an angle. After taking my lid off, I run my fingers through my hair and buck up by taking a deep breath. It will be fine, I tell myself. Casey is fine.
Why a woman I barely know outside of the intimacies of fucking is playing havoc with my mind is beyond me, but damn if I can just let this go. There’s something about Casey that is just begging me to latch on, and that is not something I’ve ever felt for another woman in my life. Didn’t feel it with Brianna, who trapped me into marriage with an “unexpected” pregnancy, nor in any of the women I dated after we divorced.
Just Casey.
Beautiful, pigheaded, and broken Casey.
I have to have her.
I walk into the bar, my eyes sweeping the place for golden hair. Coming up empty, I walk into the back bar area which is packed shoulder to shoulder with people. Luckily, my height gives me immediate advantage over the field and I quickly discern she’s not behind the bar working, but that doesn’t surprise me since her Jeep’s not here.
I do see the blond male bartender that I’ve seen come on duty when she gets off shift behind the bar, so I weave my way in between people until I make my way up to the edge. It takes a moment to get to me but luckily, the guy is efficient at his job.
“What can I get you?” he asks as he swipes the bar with a rag, before throwing it casually across his shoulder.
“Looking for Casey,” I tell him. “You know where she is?”
“Nah, man. She’s off today,” he says apologetically.
“When does she work again?”
“Tomorrow… twelve to six PM.”
“Thanks,” I say with a nod and then as an afterthought, “let me get a Budweiser.”
No sooner is the bartender’s back turned on me when I feel a light touch on my arm and a voice that says, “You’re looking for Casey?”
I look down to my left and see a woman sitting on a bar stool with a pint glass in front of her. She has long, dark hair and cat eyes, along with cheekbones that sit even higher and more prominent than Casey’s.
“Who wants to know?” I ask evasively.
“I want to fucking know,” the guy sitting beside the woman says as he stands from his bar stool. I hadn’t noticed him before, but I notice him now as he rounds the pretty, dark-haired woman to come stand before me. “I’m her brother.”
“Hunter or Brody?” I ask, and the dude’s eyebrows raise high.
“Hunter,” he says guardedly, eyes filled with suspicion.