CLAY
I was usedto people looking at me with exasperation and irritation, which came with being the kind of person I was and always had been, really. My family had always looked at me like that, and even Gina had looked at me like that several times in our relationship and then in our marriage. Hell, even my own son, who looked so much like me but in his heart was his mother’s son, had given me that look on occasion. They at least tempered it with affection most of the time, save when they were really pissed.
Reggie though? God, he looked ready to throw me out the nearest window, even if it did mean falling a long way to the ground below.
He peered around the wreckage I’d made of my room last night, and I was pretty sure I could see his future as a mental patient or the victim of a stroke. Not that I could blame him; this was the second time I’d caused property damage in the past couple of weeks. If the rumors were true, there was a lot more money than usual coming in, but that probably didn’t mean he was looking to start throwing money into a hole becausesomeonekept breaking shit.
“Please, please,pleasetell me this wasn’t some kinky sex thing,” he said in a tired voice as he toed at the upturned table’s bent legs. I didn’t even remember using that much force, but well...I wasn’t exactly in a normal state of mind at the time.
I stared at my room with a blank expression before huffing, reminding myself that people had every reason to believe that sort of thing about me, but geez. “C’mon, Reggie. Do you really think I’m going to fuck things up over sex?”
“I do not pretend to understand or know why you do the things you do.”
“Weren’t you a Guide? LiketheGuide once upon a time?”
“Yes, Clay, I was, but that doesn’t mean I magically have windows into the soul of every man who comes here.”
“Fine, then use logic.”
“What?”
“Look at me.”
“What about you?”
“Ifthiswas because of kinky, rough sex, don’t you think I would look a little more fucked up? I mean, even if I was the one in charge, don’t you think I would have marks? Or don’t you think someone else around here would look rougher than they do?”
He stared at me. “Fine, then please explain how you caused property damage again. And I swear, if you pull out Isaac’s excuse of it being a ‘breakthrough,’ I might just have a ‘breakthrough’ of my own.”
I smiled at that and fidgeted where I sat in the only chair that wasn’t damaged. I had told Isaac I would handle this on my own, even though he’d insisted he would be there to help me. But he had already done so much for me in the past twenty-four hours; he didn’t need to be there to clean up my mess as well.
“I guess Isaac would still call it a breakthrough,” I said wryly, wincing when Reggie gave me a withering look. “Let me explain before you start!”
“I am letting you explain, but I’m allowed to give you a dirty look.”
“Would it make it better if I told you it probably is going to help me?”
“Maybe, maybe not. That depends.”
“On?”
“Whether or not I believe it’s a genuine breakthrough or if it’s your, at times, barely controlled temper getting the better of you again,” he said with a sigh.
I peered up at him. “So...you’ve read my file, right?”
He glanced at me, his irritation flickering on his face. “I have.”
“Can you do me a favor?”
“This conversation is starting off on so many good feet.”
“I mean it.”
He searched my expression before sighing and nodding. “I can do that.”
“Over three years ago,” I began slowly, as if I hadn’t been keeping track of the number of days since I had lost my family, down to the exact time I had been told. “I...well, I was married to a wonderful woman named Gina. She dealt with my bullshit better than most people, but she managed to make me feel like it wasn’t bullshit, or when it was bullshit, it wasn’t abadthing every time. She was good at that...making people feel special.”
Reggie nodded, smiling a little. “I know someone like that.”
