“This has officially been the strangest day ever,” she says with a sigh, as she lets her head fall forward into her hands. “I need to figure out how to get the rest of my stuff back from Rapid City.”
“I’ve arranged for a moving company to collect all of your belongings and transport them here for you. Then, a cleaning company will be cleaning the apartment and returning the keys to the owner. I had planned to arrange for your car to be brought here, but I understand that you sold it?”
“The lawyer cost me a fortune. I sold my car to pay the fees,” she admits sadly.
“Tell me about your ex,” I ask, still unsure if I’ll be killing or simply maiming the man who made my doll so sad and destroyed her pinball machine.
Her head snaps up. “What do you want to know about him?” she asks.
“Anything you want to tell me.” It doesn’t really matter what information she gives me, because it won’t take me long to discover everything I’ll need to take care of him anyway.
“He was a client. He came in for a tattoo. He pursued me, told me what I wanted to hear, then slowly tried to change everything about me. And I was stupid enough to let him. I didn’t even know it was happening until I barely recognized myself. We broke up, and then I was stupid enough to let him back into mylife again. He’s an asshole, but it’s as much my fault as it is his, because I let him affect me so much.”
I listen carefully to her words, watching as raw emotion flashes across her face.
“Did you love him?” I ask, knowing I don’t actually want to know the answer.
“No. I don’t think so. I think I was infatuated,” she admits, and while I appreciate her candidness, something inside of my chest tugs painfully.
“You’ll love me,” I tell her confidently.
“You can’t just say that,” she blurts.
“Why not?” I question.
“Because…” She pauses. “Because you just can’t.”
“You’ll love me,” I tell her again, feeling the truth in my words right down to my soul.
EIGHT
OCTAVIA
He’s insane. He must be, but then maybe I am too. That’s probably why I’m not as freaked out as I should be right now.
I’m naked beneath another of Knight’s shirts. This time the fabric is white, the cotton soft from washing. It’s huge on me and more than long enough for me to wear as a dress, but I still feel exposed, especially in comparison to Knight, who is fully dressed.
With the sour cream in it, the chili is finally mild enough to eat and surprisingly tasty. I’m not a good cook. I can make toast and a decent enough bowl of ramen, but beyond that, I mainly rely on takeout and TV dinners.
I manage to eat half of the bowl before I push it away and rub my stomach. Knight finished both his bowl and a second helping, eating with a single-minded intensity that is a little odd. He’s a big guy. Broad, gym ripped, and generally big everywhere, I know he couldn’t have been starving, but he ate like he was.
Glancing from me to the bowl and back again, he arches his brow. “Have you finished?”
“Yes, thank you. Shall I do the dishes?” I offer.
“No. Did you find any furniture you liked?” he asks, taking both of our bowls and carrying them into the kitchen.
“Sorry, what?” I ask.
“I asked if you’d found any furniture you liked.”
“Oh. No, not really. I think it’d be better if you picked things you liked. It’s your house.”
His hands stop moving, and he turns to face me. “It’s our house, Doll. I built it for us. I designed the entire place with you in mind. If there’s anything you’d like to change about the layout or building, just let me know, and we can do it. But we still need more than a bed and a couch.”
“You don’t know me. How could you possibly have designed this house for me?” I ask incredulously.
“What would you change?” he asks, sounding genuinely interested.
