Gilded Fragments by C Banister

Author:C Banister [Banister, C]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-11-21T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Beckett

Ridley Simmons was a prick. Plain and simple. As soon as the rumours started spreading about my personal life, he’d taken the opportunity to head to Twitter and start dragging Margot’s name through the mud.

I couldn’t wait to knock him out.

I had a 59% knock-out percentage, and soon he’d feel the full force of the bonecrusher.

Sam had been diverting calls from news outlets all morning, refusing to comment on my relationship with Margot. It had been decided that silence was better and confirming or denying any reconciliation would only feed the fire for now, especially when we didn’t know what we were. I also didn’t owe anyone anything, the only person that mattered was Margot.

But if that mouse-faced prick was the reason why I didn’t get my wife back, I was going to break his jaw.

Since the rumours broke, Margot had been suspiciously silent and hadn’t answered any of my calls. Given her track record, it didn’t fill me with much confidence that she was handling it well. And if historic patterns were to be repeated, she was a certified runner.

I knocked on the Clarke house and swallowed down my growing frustration. It was difficult to see reason when it came to Margot, and her unwillingness to open up was once again rearing its ugly head. A tasteless reminder of what had soured our relationship the first time.

Almost immediately the door swung open, and Isabeau stood stoically with her hand resting on the door handle.

“Salut,” she greeted, her lips pinched together. Either she was displeased with Margot or displeased with the situation, but I’d seen that look on her face many times before. When we were teenagers and I’d seen that look on Isabeau’s face, I’d head upstairs to find Margot fuming, the steam coming from her ears as she paced around the room chuntering to herself. It was almost always over something pointless, like most arguments often were.

“She’s upstairs,” Isabeau sighed and then moved aside, allowing me to slip past her. I noticed the shadow of a man across the hallway as I took the stairs two at a time.

Margot was half-concealed by her open wardrobe, the clanging of hangers the only sound inside her quiet bedroom. I sat on the edge of the bed next to the open suitcase and crossed my arms over my chest, watching as she continued to rummage through her clothes completely unaware of my presence.

“Going somewhere?”

Margot immediately spun on her heels with a hand landing on her chest, eyes wide and blazing with alarm. “Beckett! You scared the shit out of me,” she gasped, a blouse falling from her grip onto the carpeted floor. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and I had to tear my gaze away.

“You’re running away,” I accused. No point in beating around the bush, I was tired of the games.

Her features twitched nervously, like rabbit sensing danger. “I have to get back to work,” she responded eventually, her throat bobbing as she took a deep gulp. I watched as she picked up the blouse and began folding it neatly.

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