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*Present Time - Several Days Later*
Adam was feeling antsy as he returned home. He'd gone to the gym to work out, as he always did on his days off.
He wished he could spend the day with Amy... But she and Jay had plans, and she'd been unable to break them. It sucked - he really missed her when she wasn't with him.
His guard instantly shot up as he approached his house. As he steered the car nearer, he caught sight of her.
Parking quickly, he exited the car and locked, them slammed the door. The woman was actually sitting on his front step, evidently waiting for him.
"Hello, Adam." She looked up at him, her pretty face brightening with a smile.
He reached for his keys in his jacket pocket and stepped near her, toward the door.
"What do you want, Torrie?"
Only then did his ex-wife get to her feet, and she stood directly behind him.
"Oh, nothing much," she nearly sang. She clasped her hands together merrily, anticipating his reaction. "Just to talk."
"Is that so?" the tall blond man asked disinterestedly. He unlocked the door and cast her a cursory glance over his shoulder. "Because we have nothing to talk about."
"Actually," Torrie said, gesturing to him with one finely manicured hand, "that's where you're wrong. We have a *lot* to talk about." Her face wore a purely smug, self-satisifed expression, and she squeezed past him, slipping into the house he'd shared with her once upon a time.
Adam frowned, suspicious but perplexed at the same time. She looked as though she meant business, and he wondered what the hell was up. Shaking his head in annoyance, he followed his former wife inside and closed the door behind him.
Torrie had by now entered the living room and stretched out on the couch in a most arrogant fashion.
The tall Canadian wasn't pleased. However, he didn't utter any protests at her rudeness as he removed his jacket, then sat on one of the armchairs, away from her.
"What the hell is on your mind, Torrie?" he asked impatiently. He hoped she would make this quick and then get out of his house. He would rather spend the day walking barefoot on hot coals than spend any amount of time with Torrie.
"Oh, there's *plenty* on my mind these days," the tall blonde woman said. "For instance, your sex life." The smug smile returned to the woman's face.
Adam felt a sudden chill at his ex-wife's words. No... She couldn't *possibly* know anything. There was no *way*.
"Is that so?" he challenged, refusing to show how nervous she was really making him.
"Oh, yes - very much so," Torrie answered, a harsh gleam in her clear eyes. She fixed that gaze on him and smirked. "And I find it absolutely intriguing." She toyed with her long hair as she stretched out further on the couch.
Adam sneered at her. God, she was so arrogant. Who the hell did she think she was, coming over here to his house uninvited and making accusations like this?
"Look," he finally said, his patience not only worn thin but *through*, "I don't have time for your games."
"I'm not *playing* games," she snapped, suddenly dead serious. "And you'll *make* the time for me." She straightened up, now sitting with her feet on the floor.
The blond man cocked his head as he regarded her, not masking his anger anymore.
"All right, that's it... Just who the hell do you think you are?" he muttered. "In case you've forgotten, you're my ex-wife. My sex life, or whether or not I even *have* one, is none of your damn business." He stood up. "Get out."
"I'll tell!"
Those two small words stopped him dead in his tracks. Christ... She really *did* know - just by those two words, he knew she did. He turned back around to fully face her, his eyes wide and full of rage.
Back came the smile, so full of smugness and self-satisfaction. Torrie reached up to twirl a lock of her long platinum hair through her forefinger.
"Yeah, I know all about you and Amy Dumas." Her smile quickly vanished, her expression darkening with her next words. "I always *knew* you had a thing for her back when we were married. You wished you were married to her instead of me," she accused bitterly. "But I never dreamed she would be that much of a whore in fucking *you* when she's married to your *best friend*."
Adam's hand clenched into a fist at that last statement. This bitch calling Amy a whore did *not* sit well with him.
"So, let's see," Torrie went on, shifting her blue eyes heavenward. "What exactly should I get out of you for this information?" She met his glittering, fury-filled green orbs and smiled again. "Hmm... Maybe a few good fucks out of you again, maybe some money - though I don't need *that*... Maybe... this house!" She pressed her forefinger to her cheek. "Or maybe-"
"Shut the fuck up!" Adam yelled, his voice booming. This was it - he was pushed well past his limit. "There is no way in *hell* I'm gonna let a pathetic bitch like you manipulate me - *or* blackmail me. You're *not* getting my house, and the *only* way I'd ever fuck you again is in your dreams... Now, get the *hell* out of here before I call the police on you for trespassing!"
Torrie's expression grew shocked, all traces of amusement now gone from her face. Never had Adam ever spoken to her this way before. Even when they'd been going through the divorce, he'd always been very civil.
Annoyed and for some reason hurt simultaneously, the blonde rose and obliged him as she made her way to the front door to leave. She felt her ex-husband right at her heels behind her and dared to turn back to him.
"Well... Looks like I'll have to go pay Jay a visit, or make a phone call to him." She glared directly and defiantly into the tall blond man's stern eyes. "After all, he has a right to know that his wife is screwing his best friend."
"You do that," Adam nearly growled as he reached for the door handle, "and I swear to whatever gods may exist, I'll make you wish you were never born."
Torrie shuddered at the ice cold malice in his tone, speechless for once. Then, cowed, she turned and fled out the
door and away from her former husband's house.