Free Sociopath's Revenge by V.F. Mason

ago, their house is next to Kate here. Peter, this is Henry and Anita. Anita, Henry, this is Peter."
    Peter still eyed Damian suspiciously but extended his hand in greeting. A second passed, and Damian returned the handshake, but it didn't escape my notice how Peter winced; most probably, the jerk wasn't gentle. "So are you guys a couple or married?" He asked the question that interested me too, but suddenly, I couldn't listen to what they were to each other.
    Because the idea that he was involved with someone or worse, married when he spent the night with me? I couldn't stomach it, and I had to leave.
    "Annie, keep an eye on Kristina please?" I glanced at my daughter who still happily listened to whatever Jason said. "I need to run to the bathroom."
    Peter softly touched my arm. "Are you okay?"
    "Yes," I said cheerfully, too cheerfully. "It's so hot I need to refresh my face." Only years spent in all those high society classes that my mother dragged me to allowed me to leave with dignity, and to plaster a smile on my face when I addressed her . "It's very nice to meet you."
    Without waiting for anyone else to comment on my departure, I quickly made my way toward the bathroom on the second floor. I practically ran up the stairs, wiping the tears that kept falling. I reached the bathroom door, pushed it open, and closed it after me. Breathing heavily, I tried to control the sobs. I turned on the water and rested my hands on the sink, begging myself to calm down.
    I was so engrossed in my feelings that I hadn't registered someone else's presence until the click of the lock snapped in place, and a tight, firm, hot chest pressed me closer to the counter. My whole body rebelled at the touch.
    Freaking prick!
    "Let go of me."
    "Look at me."
    I shook my head, refusing to raise my eyes to the mirror and give him the satisfaction of seeing my tears.
    "Damian, leave the bathroom. Respect my privacy."
    What more did he want from me? Maybe I had no right to react with such intensity to him having a woman. Maybe five years was a long time to ask a man to be faithful to me.
    But last night? He came to me, made love with me, and then he wanted me back, all while he had another woman waiting for him at home? This couldn't be forgiven.
    "Sapphire," he whispered into my hair.
    After taking a shaky breath, I was washed in a wave of deep anger, and instead of being a crying mess, I transformed into one furious, scorned woman. Why should I take the high road and not show him my emotions? He was the one in the wrong here, not me.
    Fuck this!
    I spun around so fast Damian had to take a step back so I wouldn't stumble on his feet. I regretted not wearing high heels; maybe then he'd feel an ounce of the pain I felt, even if it was only physical.
    "Did anyone touch you, my Sapphire?"
    My voice lowered to imitate his pitch, and his eyes darkened. "You know what, Damian? How fucking dare you ask me this, when you have a woman living with you!" His jaw ticked and his scowl deepened, but I was too far gone to notice the alarming signs. "Now, I can understand that men have needs, so probably expecting fidelity from the man who claimed to love me is a stretch, but fuck you." I pushed hard on his chest in frustration, even though he didn't budge. "You had no right coming to me last night, demanding answers, and having sex with me. And you know what… fuck you for cheating on me, because needs or no needs, you knew I was alive! So even if there was a man"—his eyes became brown pools filled with an expression I couldn't name—"I'd have all the fucking right in the world to be with him because you were supposedly dead. You and that woman, though? It's like the ultimate betrayal," I finished, almost screaming, and then my cheeks flushed from the memory of where we were. Thankfully, the water was still running in the sink, and the bathroom was at the far end of the house; no one would hear a thing. I still planned to walk away from this cookout with my dignity