“Okay, patches. You’ve managed to get me alone in the middle of nowhere.” I smiled playfully, but the curve of my lips fell slightly when he released his hold on my hand.
Witnessing Bale dragging his hand over the lower half of his face left me furrowing my brows at whatever was unsettling him.
Was he…nervous?
I reached out for his shoulder, but before I made contact, he grabbed me just below my shoulders. The gentleness he had shown during our dance together vanished in an instant.
He shoved me back against the wide beam of thecross frame; the impact jarred me enough to cause me to gasp out. My eyes widened in shock and confusion.
Then, his face was right up in mine with wild eyes that looked darker than the night sky itself. His jaw was clenched so tightly that when he spoke, every word was tight with strain.
“You should never have moved to this fucking town. It makes mesickthat you came here when you could have gone anywhere else. Most of all, I want to fucking hate everything about you.” The vicious verbal attacks had him shaking with either rage or desperation, I couldn’t tell.
A hand grabbed my face, his thumb roughly rubbing over my bottom lip. It was a gesture that should have been soft and tender, and now it felt just like a mockery of our evening.
My voice shook from the intense pounding of my heart. “Bale?—”
“Shut up!”
I flinched as he snapped, his fingers digging into my face.
“Just shut your fucking pretty mouth, Harlow!”
I swallowed hard, not daring to move. Despite my physical stillness, my brain reeled with thoughts.
There was the distant melody of some song coming from the courtyard in the distance, the rustling of leaves as the breeze coursed through the field, and then the light flap of wings.
Above us, a crow landed on one ofthe cross frame arms. A tragic witness to whatever was going on here, or perhaps an ill omen.
Bale glanced up at the bird, glaring hard enough that I could have sworn he was trying to shoot holes through its little feathered chest.
Little by little, his grasp on me softened before all the tension drained from his body. He blew out a shaky exhale, leaning in until our foreheads touched. The act pushed the brim of his cap up slightly.
My body mirrored his energy, gradually allowing myself to ease up. When he took a deep breath in, I did the same. When I exhaled, so did he. A few minutes passed of each of us sharing our breaths together.
This time, when his hands came to my shoulders, they just hovered there. A faint tremble lingered in his fingers, restraint mixed with hesitation.
“Hate me. Hate me like I should hate you,” Bale whispered. It was a plea, the type of one you hear a man make on his knees while looking up to the gods.
I stood there looking at him, really looking past the armor that all of us wear in one form or another. Not just the rugged pretty boy image. Not the audacity of him thinking he was the best this town had to offer. Hell, not even the way he pretended that Falston owed him something.
“Why should I?” My words were almost drowned out by a sudden gust of wind.
Bale growled beneath his breath, and his hand hit thecolumn of the cross frame above my head. The vibration of the impact traveled down my spine.
“You don’t get it!” There was less anger in his voice now, and more frustrated weariness.
He stepped back from me abruptly, leaving cool air in the void instead of the warmth of his presence from seconds ago.
Snatching his cap off, his fingers ran through his hair as he paced in the small clearing. As he continued gathering his thoughts, I watched him repeatedly tap his cap against the side of his thigh.
Silently, I eased myself away from the wooden post.
“Explain it to me, Bale. Make me get it.”
His anxious footsteps came to a halt. Turning to look at me, the expression on his face told me that he hadn’t expected my encouragement.
I followed his gaze as he looked up at the cross frame once more, but when I followed what he was staring at, there was nothing but the empty pieces of timber.
