Sleet Kitten: Book One of the Sleet Series

If I never have to sit through another publicity meeting, it’ll be too soon. That bullshit took hours. I don’t even understand how. I literally want nothing to do with the one woman and I want everything to do with the other woman. Just let me go out with Kitten, ignore Lacy, and all will be right in the world. I don’t even know what the final plan of attack was, but I’m done. I’m going home.

Walking through the lobby of my building, I spot Henry over at the front desk. One of the chattier residents has parked themselves in front of him, so I just wave. The wave he gives me back is a little off. Kind of hesitant? Or maybe my brain is fried and I’m going crazy.

Getting off the elevators, I feel some relief at being home. I need to put this day behind me, get some rest, kick ass tomorrow, and then convince Kitten to come home with me after the game. 

As I open the door to my condo, I pull out my phone one more time. Still no response from Kitten. Damn it. I know I’m skating on thin ice at this point, and I hate it.

I’m locking the front door when I see it. Sitting on the floor, next to where I’m standing, is some gaudy designer overnight bag. That’s not mine. And none of the women in my life would be caught dead with a bag like that. But I do know one woman who’d love a status symbol like that. Lacy.

Slowly, I turn around and face the living room. Standing there, silhouetted by the windows, is the devil herself.

“Hi, Jackson. Welcome home,” she purrs.

Lacy’s wearing some sort of tiny robe, and for a moment, I’m stunned into silence. What in the hell is going on? Is this some sort of waking nightmare? Then in one fluid motion, she unties the robe and lets it drop to the ground. 

She’s entirely naked. 

I’m no longer stunned into silence. I’m fucking furious.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?!” I nearly yell. “Put your fucking clothes on, you psychopath!”

Lacy looks confused. How is it possible that she’d think this was okay? 

She takes a step toward me, and I hold up my hands. She’s still twenty feet away, but I don’t want her naked body a single inch closer to me.

“Lacy, I swear to god, if you don’t put some clothes on, right now, I’m calling the police.”

“Are you serious?” she questions me, but she bends down and snatches her robe off the ground.

“Am I serious? This is how fucking serious I am.” I pull my phone out and call down to the front desk. “Henry? Yes, this is Jackson. Please send someone up from security. Now.” I hang up, and continue to look Lacy in the eyes as she reties her robe.

“What’s wrong with you, Jackson? I love you. How can you not see that?”

“NO!” The denial shouts from my lungs and ricochets around the room. “No.” I say again. “You never loved me. You loved this.” I gesture around my penthouse. “And to be fair, I don’t think I ever loved you either. I was a fool to ever think I did.”

“How can you say that?!” She screeches, more affronted than hurt.

“Katelyn.” The answer is simple.

Her face distorts. “That -”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” I point a finger at her. “Katelyn is twice the woman you’ll ever be. And she loves me for me. And I love her.”

The truth of it washes over me and suddenly the fight and anger seeps from my body. 

Lacy tries to speak but I cut her off. “How did you get in here?”

“I used my key.” She props her hands on her hips. 

That’s when I see it.

I shake my head in utter disbelief. “Jesus Christ, Lacy. I don’t give a shit what you do with that ring, throw it in a lake, donate it to charity. I don’t care. But take it off your fucking finger. We’re over. We’ve been over. You wearin’ it like that… it’s just… pathetic.”

She’s crying now. Not actual tears. I don’t think her face knows how to do that anymore. And it’s not like she truly wants to be with me. She thinks I’m an asshole. And – to her – I am.

It’s been less than a minute since I called, but there’s already a knock at the door. Since I’m still standing right here next to it, I pull it open. Perfect. They sent the big guy. I’ve seen him wandering the halls. He’s nearly as big as I am, and I’ve never seen him crack a smile. I’m positive Lacy’s shifty crybaby shit won’t work on him.

Keeping my back to Lacy, I address the security guy. “This woman broke into my apartment. I would like her escorted from the building. I’m not sure if I’m going to pursue a restraining order, but I’d like for you to report this so I have an incident to reference.”

“Jackson, you piece of shit!” Lacy starts shouting, in a pitch so high I’m sure dogs all over the city are trembling.

We both ignore her outburst. “Absolutely, sir. We take the security of our residents very seriously.”

“Thank you. Oh, and she claims to have a key. Please have that confiscated.” 

I thought I’d done it before, but now I’m sure. I’ve finally wiped my hands of Lacy. She’ll never interfere in my life again.