“Think what you will. You’re not leaving.”
“I got a rehearsal and a gig this afternoon. I’m going.”
“Dammit, Sienna. If I have to handcuff you to a radiator, I will.” I take two steps toward her and instead of backing up, she meets me chest to chest, those stunning eyes all fired up.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
Generally, I’m an easy-going guy but she’s brought out a side of me I’ve never seen before, more like my father, if truth be told.
I cringe as it dawns on me why I always date women without spunk, without heart. They keep the monsters inside me at bay. I can have mindless sex without worry. If I end up with Alzheimer’s, it won’t matter. They can stick me in a home and there won’t be any wife or kids to dread visiting me.
I pace like a caged lion across the small living room with her upstairs, slamming doors and breaking things. Every so often I glance out the front window, waiting for Jack. He should be here within the hour.
After a while, it goes quiet and I relax. Suddenly, I hear her soulful voice, walk up the stairs, and peek into my kitchen. She’s singing with her eyes closed, earbuds plugged into her cell phone. It’s the same song that broke my fucking heart in the club.
Her voice cracks with a little sob, making me feel like one mean SOB.
