Home James

JAMES

I haven’t felt this crappy since the bachelors. Pain meds and booze–deadly combination. I was still a bit drunk and fucking angry.

That’s why I decided to go home. The genuine dilemma was, should I confront Destiny with the photos, or should I just wait and let my investigator do a little snooping?

I wanted to stew on it for a while. My fucking head was killing me. I didn’t know what hurt more: my balls, my head, or my heart. Never expected this of her, my sweet naïve Sugar.

You were a complete idiot, James Barrington, to allow yourself to be duped by a pretty face and a stunning body. Again.

“Mr. Barrington, we’re here.” The driver stopped at my gate.

The latter was left wide open. Which was unusual. I tried closing it with the remote control and it didn’t close. That was the first thing I noticed. The second was Ronan’s black Audi in my driveway. That set my blood ablaze.

Motioning the driver on through, I checked my Rolex. Barely eight thirty a.m. What the fuck was Ronan doin