Carson's pov
"We need to make a stop before we go home," Emmy said from the car, not looking at me.
Willow Creek was two hours away, so a little drop by wouldn't derail us.
"Okay," I said. She probably had friends to say goodbye to, or family members. I did ask her to move in with me last night.
But when we got to a neighborhood where the houses were bigger than my whole garage apartment, and she told me to park two blocks away, I got a bad feeling.
"Emmy," I said, cutting the engine and stepping out of my car. "What's going on?"
"I just need to get something." She was already opening her car door, avoiding my eyes.
"Who lives here?" I asked. "Are you in trouble?"
"It's the opposite of trouble," she promised, and her eyes were so serious I believed her. Against my better judgment, I got out and followed her, willingly
We walked to the biggest, coldest-looking house on the street. And then she pulled out a key. A key.
My brain short-circuited. She slid it into the lock and pushed the door open.
I didn't need a tour. The guy's face was everywhere in giant framed photos. Preston really, really loved Preston.
"Is this…?" I started, my voice low. If we were breaking and entering her ex fiance's mansion, I needed her to say it out loud
"Yes," she cut me off. "It's Preston's house."
She walked in like she owned the place, picked up a glass case with a signed baseball in it, and snatched a car key off a table like it was her personal shopping mall.
That's when we heard it. Footsteps coming down the stairs.
I looked at her, ready for anything. Waiting for her to panic or show some sign of distress, perhaps react like a normal breaking and entering criminal. What I was not ready for was what she did next.
She picked up a baseball bat that was just lying there. She moved to the bottom of the stairs, calm as you please.
Preston came into view, talking on his phone. He saw her. His eyes went wide like he knew what was coming.
"Hey, Honey," she said, with this sweet, terrifying smile.
Then she swung the bat.
It connected with his stomach with a solid thump. He made a sound like a deflating balloon and crumpled to the floor, gasping and coughing.
I stared at her. My sweet, pregnant, ran-away-from-home wife who had just taken a man down with a baseball bat .
I swear, I think I fell in love with her a little bit right then.
Which should be concerning, considering I was taking her home to meet my children.
She just shrugged at me. Then she leaned over him, pushing his hair back like a loving girlfriend.
"Are you okay, baby?" she asked, her voice all sugar and honey.
He just groaned and nodded.
I felt myself tense up. What was she doing going that close to him?
"You shouldn't have said those things on national television," she cooed, touching his cheek like he was a little baby. "You see how that would upset me, don't you, my love?"
He nodded again, looking dazed and in pain.
She held up the glass case with the baseball. "You don't mind if I take this, do you?"
Preston went crazy. "No! Emilia, don't you dare!"
I took a step forward, thinking I might have to stop him from tackling her... maybe murder him a little or a lot depending on how much hurt he was planning on inflicting on her, I haven't exactly decided.
But Emmy just laughed. "What are you going to do, Preston? Hit the mother of your child? Boy, don't make me hit you again"
He froze, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.
"It's one of a kind!" he begged, his voice shaking. "Signed by a legend! It's worth millions!"
"You told everyone I'm bad at sex," she said, pouting. "That's hurtful, Preston. Really awful" Then she patted his head "Bad Preston. Bad boy"
Then she walked right past us, heading for the garage. Preston and I just followed her, like she was the queen and we were her stupid servants. The garage was filled with shiny, expensive cars.
She looked around, then turned to me. "What kind of car do you suppose Joni would love among these? I really want to impress her."
My head was spinning. Great! We've graduated to grand theft auto "How about none?" I managed to say.
She shrugged and pointed to a silver Aston Martin that probably cost more than I'd make in ten years. She looked at Preston.
"I want that one. Could you be a darling and have it shipped to…" She turned to me. "What's your address, husband?"
That was it. I'd had enough.
I walked over to her, didn't say a word, and threw her over my shoulder.
"Hey!" she yelped, struggling. "Put me down!"
I smacked her bum. it wasn't planned.It wasn't hard, but it was a good, solid smack.
She went completely silent for a second. Then a surprised giggle burst out of her. "Did you just spank me Carson Gibbs?"
"Settle down. That's enough, now" I told her, starting to walk back through the house.
Preston ran after us. "What about my ball?!"
I looked at Emmy. "We will return your ball to you, won't we, darling?"
"Nope," she said cheerfully. "I'm setting it on fire!"
Preston looked like he was about to have a stroke. "I will fucking murder you, Emmy!"
I stopped and turned, still holding Emilia. I looked him dead in the eye, and all my humor was gone.
"We will hold on to it for now," I said, my voice low and angry. He did threaten to kill her. "But rest assured, it won't be harmed. It will be returned to you. In exchange, you will stay away from the press. You won't utter another bad word about my wife." I took a step toward him, and he flinched. "You will stay away from her… or next time, I will be the one bashing your head in. Do you understand?"
He nodded.
I turned and carried my crazy, brilliant wife out of that cold house and back into the sun. She was still giggling in my arms, and I knew, without a doubt, Life as I know it was over.