Crossed Keys

Chapter Twelve - Strike

Dash had lied to me. I knew something was wrong the moment I stepped out of the bathroom and saw the look on his face.

I figured it was his second guessing our relationship. I didn't think anything of it until things just deteriorated within hours.

"Who was that?"

"Wrong number."

I dragged a hand over my face and lounged into the overstuffed chair at my place in Chiang Mai. It'd been two days since I said goodbye to Dash and returned to the city to resume running my restaurant. It'd been two days since that strange phone call, two days since I'd spoken to Dash and two says since I knew whatever we'd had on that island meant nothing to him.

It wasn't like I'd wanted to leave, but Dash had been cold. The kiss we shared as I was about to leave wasn't one he enjoyed and that broke me more than anything else.

Knocking back my shot, I set the glass on the center table and slumped backward, trying to stop the pain in my chest. I'd tried calling him, but Dash never once picked up.

No matter how many messages I'd left him, he never once called back.

I tried messaging him through our chat—same thing happened, no reply. Another three days passed, and I got the message. He wanted nothing to do with me and couldn't even say it to my fucking face.

I deleted his number in my phone and began trying to move on.

I hadn't been sleeping, and at work it took everything in me not to snap at people. Staying at the restaurant from open to close, at nights I became too exhausted to really do much of anything but taking a shower and collapsing in bed. I hadn't been feeling well either and that took a lot more brain power than usually.

"I've been trying to get a hold of you."

The voice made me sick to my stomach. Still, I turned to face Code, the ex I never wanted to see again.

"You're not welcomed here." I told him, shoving roughly by him to get to the chopping board.

He slammed into one of my massive fridges, but I didn't care.

"Get out."

"Is that the way to greet your man?"

I gripped the handle of the knife I'd been using to cut onions and swung at him. Code screamed and ducked out of the way. The blade hit the fridge and kind of vibrated in my hand.

"Are you crazy!" Code shrieked.

"Do you really want the answer to that question?" I snarled. "Do you really want to test me right now?"

"Come on, Strike." Code stepped toward me.

I pointed the knife at him. "You may want to rethink whatever it is you're thinking right now."

"You're not going to cut me."

"Get—the—fuck—out!" I growled. "And if you come back, know I won't miss twice!"

"Come on, Strike." He pleaded. "I love you."

"Love me?" I snapped. "You love me? You don't love me. What happened, the man you left me for grew some senses? Did you finally realize he'll never leave his wife for you?"

Code looked away from me.

I scoffed. "I refuse to be anyone's second choice. You don't love me, Code. You just don't want to be alone and you think I'll be sitting around, waiting for you to come to your senses."

"I heard—the little country rat you've been fucking." Code smirked. "How's that going for you?"

I used the tip of the knife to lift his chin.