She forced her hand still.“Stop it!”she shouted.“Stop acting like you know me—because you don’t.You don’t know a single goddamn thing about me.”
“That so?”Nash shot back.“You wanna pretend you’re some brand-new, world-travelin’ little thing now?But here you are—back on my dick like nothin’ ever changed.”
“Oh, fuck you!”Cassie shrieked, shoving past him—
He grabbed her arm and yanked her back so hard she stumbled into him.
“No, Cas—fuck you!Don’t try to sell me some ‘you don’t know me now’ bullshit!You’re still smash-first, think-later.Still runnin’ that goddamn mouth.Still refusin’ to ask for help.Still pretendin’ you’re fine when you ain’t.Still goin’ cold the second somethin’ gets too goddamn real.Same as you used to.Same as fuckin’ always.”
His grip tightened, her leather jacket creaking as he leaned in, mouth brushing the edge of her ear.“There’s nothin’ about you I don’t know,” he said darkly.“Not then.Not now.
“Fact is, I bet you’re wet right now—just from me grabbin’ you.”His mouth twisted into a sneer—
Cassie’s fist shot up and cracked against his jaw, the jolt snapping straight up her arm.Nash’s head whipped to the side, shoulders bunching, a snarl tearing out of him as he staggered half a step.
“You don’t fucking know me,” she spat.“You just remember the stupid little girl who thought you were everything because she didn’t know any different.
“Thankfully, that’s not the case anymore.”
Nash went still—eyes gone flat and black—and Cassie, knowing a loaded gun when she saw one, turned and ran.
Then—CRACK.
The sound of his fist going through a wall chased her, followed by a roar that hit her spine like a slap:
“See you in another twelve fuckin’ years!”
Cassie stopped so fast her breath caught.Turning, she raced back to the living room, skidding in the doorway.
Nash whipped toward her, chest heaving, blood slick over his knuckles.The wall beside him had a fist-shaped hole in it, plaster scattered across the floor.
“Eleven!”she shouted, her voice shaking with adrenaline.“It’s been eleven years, you fucking idiot—nottwelve.”
A flicker of confusion crossed his face—gone as fast as it appeared, swallowed by rage.
“This again?Jesus Christ, Cas—your brain broke?You left twelve goddamn years ago and never looked back.Christmas—you didn’t show.Spring break?Nothin’.Summer?You stayed fuckin’ gone—”
“You’re right,” she cut in.“Because I had to work!My scholarship barely covered anything.”
“Con was sendin’ you money.So was I—”
“And summer?”she shot back, her voice climbing over his.“I told you about the internship.I told you I couldn’t miss it.You knew!”
“Still doesn’t change jack shit!”he thundered on.“You never came home.You never called after Christmas.You changed your goddamn phone number—”
“It was supposed to be a fucking surprise!”
Her scream sliced through the room, stopping him cold.
“For Christmas,” she went on—still loud, still shaking.“Only Connor knew.I took two buses—the second one broke down.Thought I’d never make it, but I did.Connor picked me up, I dropped him back at the house, then drove straight to yours.You weren’t there, so I went to the club.”
The words came fast and breathless, tumbling out before she could stop them.
“The commons was empty, but I heard noise coming from the pool room.”
It all came rushing back at once:
Christmas lights flickering.Hank Jr.growling from the jukebox.Laughter—low and intimate.
