I was protective of my things, habitually possessive.
No one could touch what belonged to me: cigarettes, car keys, phone,clothes, books, and notebooks. Basically, everything that was mine needed to stay mine alone.
Because I was afraid that people would contaminate what belonged to me.
My sweaters or T-shirts had only ever been worn by one woman in my entire life: my sister. Because siblings were allowed to cross certain lines. That’s just the way it was.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jennifer snapped, mustering up a courage that failed as soon as I turned to look at her. My gaze moved over her firm breasts and pale skin, still reddened from the way I’d worn her out. Her blond hair lay limp and disheveled. I wrinkled my nose at the smell of her and thought about how she should shower as soon as possible.
Fuck. I really had a fixation.
“Shut up,” I said, brushing aside her question to retrieve my pack of Winstons. I pulled out a cigarette and wedged it between my lips. “I can’t deal with your tantrums right now.”
Jennifer’s forehead creased up as she stood right there, sizing me up silently. I ignored her and took out my lighter, desperate for that first hit of nicotine. The smell of smoke was definitely better than the stink that still lingered in the room.
“This is about her, isn’t it?” Jennifer blurted out, pulling my eyes back to her.
Was she stupid or something?
She ignored my warning and kept talking. “Ever since that snot-nosed brat left, you’ve treated everyone with nothing but contempt. You’re anxious all the time and now…” She quirked a corner of her mouth and pointed at the fly of my dark jeans. “Now you don’t even come. Bet you didn’t have that problem with her.”
Jennifer wasn’t just needling me; she was also demonstrating how completely obsessed she was with Selene. She perceived Babygirl as a real threat, an omnipresent ghost even now that Selene was far away in Detroit, living her life. She only called her a “snot-nosed brat” because she knew that Selene was her opposite.
Jennifer was four years older, much more experienced, and had anobvious facility with men. She knew how to wield her tongue, whether she was sucking guys off or spitting venom at them.
I gave her a vague smile and drew closer to her, blowing cigarette smoke in her face.
“You’re so afraid of her…” I whispered, close to her lips. “That snot-nosed brat.” I hadn’t told the Krew about what happened, so they didn’t even know about the accident, much less that Babygirl had left because of me.
Recalling it upset me. Every time I thought about Selene, a bubbling energy radiated through my body, coalescing in the middle of my chest. It was a burning, painful thing, something that I knew was deeply wrong. But then, I was always attracted to all that was damaged, all that burned, all that poisoned, all that aroused. That made me feel alive.
And she was all of that, all concentrated in a tiny body and a pair of ocean eyes.
“I’m not afraid of anyone; I just think that you…” Jennifer tried to keep talking, but I quit listening, turning my back on her and leaving the room.
“I don’t have time for your bullshit. Clean yourself up,” I ordered with frosty calm, trying to keep myself in check.
I walked into the living room, tense as a violin string. My muscles were tensed, my veins were bulging, and the thing between my legs wasn’t any better off.
My jeans felt too tight, like I was trapped in the layers of material. If I’d been alone, I would have happily walked naked around the space, like an animal in a cage. But instead…
“Hey…’bout time you two got done! You really did it up, huh? Is she still alive?” Xavier interrupted whatever Luke was saying about some basketball game and craned his neck, pretending to peek into the bedroom. The two of them lounged on the sofa and looked curiously at me.
“She’s walking funny, but yeah,” I answered in kind, slipping easily into that useless bro banter. I made myself sick sometimes with the way I belittled women, but it was because it had been a woman who’d destroyed me. She’d made it impossible for me to experience emotions or to have normal, healthy relationships with other humans.
As I ground my half-smoked cigarette into the ashtray on the kitchen island, I smelled the aroma of pizza in the air. My stomach grumbled, and, not bothering to ask Xavier’s permission, I stooped to grab a slice from the cardboard box on the living room’s coffee table.
“What the fuck! Order your own!” he snapped irritably at me.
“Your ass is planted on my couch in my pool house on my property. The least you owe me is dinner.” I moved the slice up to my mouth and devoured it in two bites. I avoided the alcohol, though. Xavier and Luke were used to eating garbage and guzzling rivers of beer all the time, but I wasn’t. I tried to eat clean and align my lifestyle with my training regimen for boxing.
“Aren’t you on a diet, princess?” Xavier sneered, punching me in the abdomen, and I flinched away slightly, worried he might try to hit me lower. He was enough of an asshole to try it.
“Never been on a diet; I just don’t eat like shit,” I shrugged. Then, Jennifer stormed out of the bedroom, being sure to slam the door behind her so we would all pay attention. She’d gotten dressed again and done her hair back up in the usual braids. She stalked briskly into the living room, hips swaying in her knee-high boots. Xavier gave a whistle of approval, watching her short skirt swing with each step.
“We got one for you too,” Luke told her, pointing at the unopened pizza box sitting on the counter in the kitchen, but she just glared at him, jaw clenched.
“I’m out of here,” she announced, throwing her bag over one shoulder. She struck a particularly angry pose, and I sighed in irritation. What, did she think I was going to chase her? Delusional.
