My lips pull into a slow, smug grin. “I thought that’s what you wanted me to do, terror.”
Her mouth snaps shut in a firm line. There it is. The fire’s back. Her face flames, then she crosses her arms across her chest.
“Now you listen? You tell me totrustyou, and then you disappear? Nice move, asshole.” She bends over to pick up her bag, before flipping me off and turning on her heel, moving deeper into the garage.
I let her get eight, maybe nine steps ahead of me before I speak.
“Why did you come back to work when I told you it wasn’t safe?” I ask as I push off the column and move toward her. She stops, looking over her shoulder.
“They needed someone to cover a shift.” The words come out too polite, and I can see she regrets it instantly.
“You need to learn how to tell people no.” Aside from me, she wants to please everyone around her. It’s a trait she adapted to survive, and I hate it–hate the world for teaching her she needed to bend instead of bite.
“Use that backbone you show me with them,” I nod my head toward the casino behind us.
“I need the money, and they don’t dangle me from balconies,” she snaps.
Touche.
“You need to trust me, doll. That club…this whole damn place isn’t safe.”
“Tell me why!” Dropping her bag again, she storms over to me. “Tell me why I should trust you of all fucking people.” Her finger jabs into my chest. “Tell me why you disappeared after you told me to trust you!”
“You’re mad,” I say, wrapping my hand around hers, my voice low.
“Excellent observation skills.” She snarks, yanking her hand back as if the contact burned her.
“You wanted me to leave you alone,” I remind her. “So I did.”
“Oh really?” She laughs, the sound cold and detached. “You drag me to your penthouse, tell me to trust you while dangling me over the fucking balcony. Took my clothes then played chef–all to then act like it didn’t happen. Hate to tell you, you fucking lunatic,I’ll never trust you.”
The words hit like a kick to the gut. Not because they’re true–but because she wants them to be.Needsthem to be. She’d rather keep me as the monster in her head instead of remembering me as the only person she once trusted.
My jaw tightens, my patience snaps, and my hand wraps around her throat.
“Wrong answer,” my voice comes out low. Her chin lifts, defiant as ever. Her eyes bore into mine without a hint of backing down. “This game’s getting a little old, doll. Don’t you think?”
“Not a game, just math,” she uses my own words against me and I chuckle, the corners of my mouth twitching.
“Careful, doll. You keep throwing my words back at me, I’ll start thinking that you actually listen when I talk.” My fingers loosen at her throat, sliding to the side of her neck. My thumb rests over her pulse. It’s racing–fast, wild.
“You don’t hateme,” I murmur, shaking my head. “You hate that youdon’t.”Her lips part as I hear the air knocked from her lungs. She pales, and I take a step back.
Stuffing my hands in my pockets, she watches me with a horrified look on her face. She takes a couple of unsteady steps backwards, then turns to walk away. Stopping where she dropped her bag, she glances over her shoulder cautiously. Leaning over to pick it up, she slings it over her shoulder once again, pulls out her keys, and picks up the pace until she reaches her vehicle.
I don’t move.
I watch as she climbs into her car and it swallows her up like it isn’t stealing everything from me.
I could stop her. Four, maybe five steps at most. But I don’t take them. She floors it out of the spot, then peels out of the garage once again right before my eyes, tires screeching across the concrete. And I still don't move. I watch her tail lights until they disappear then throw my head back, the chill in the early morning air allowing me to see the breath I release.
Rubbing my hand down my face, it smells like her. Almonds, sandalwood and something that’s justher.I flex my fingers, as if the motion will shake it loose. It doesn’t.
Did she really think that I would just vanish on her? That I wasn’t watching her every move from the minute she got here? I gave her space, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t watching her.
Seems she doesn’t know me as well as she thought she did.
My phone vibrates, freeing me from thoughts that have me on a path to destruction. It’s a text from Cole in the group chat.
