She sneers, “Not anymore.”
“The last time you were here, it scratched up your shoulder.” My eyes drop to the floor, and I kick an invisible dust bunny. “You’ve been hurt enough, and I didn’t want to keep something around that hurt you.”
The mood in the room shifts, like it's filled with puppies and cotton candy. The three older men give me little nods of approval. But Uri’s dad, between gasping breaths, says, “What a pussy. No wonder he can’t handle his drugs.”
Again, there’s an instant change. The comment isn’t anything I haven’t heard before at industry parties, so it doesn’t bother me. But when I look back at her, Alana has a gun pressed against Uri’s dad’s head.
“There’s a five-million-dollar life insurance policy on you, and I like your wife light-years more than you,” she says with all the warmth of an ice cube in Antarctica. Then she stares up at me.
The change would be imperceptible to anyone else, but I see it like a flashing billboard on her face. Her rage at this man shifts when she meets my eyes. Hidden behind the anger, there’s fear and panic. She pulled a gun, a deadly weapon, so casually, and she’s using it as an empty threat. She’s shown her hidden side.
I speak slowly, each word getting darker and more aggressive, “Get out of my home.” I haven’t used this tone in years, I almost forgot I had it.
Alana pulls the gun back, the weight of shame making her shoulders sink as she whispers, “Sorry.” Then she takes a step towards the door.
“Not you.” I glare at the Four Families, the pieces of shit that brought out this dark side of her and point to the exit. “You broke into my home in a feeble attempt to make threats and wave your dicks around. I already kicked the shit out of three of you. This is your only opportunity to leave, otherwise I’m locking the door, and you’ll be trapped in here with me.”
Stunned men and their survival instincts kick in, and they shuffle out the door. There’s a quick mumbled ‘sorry’ and ‘you have a lovely home.’ Two men lift Uri’s dad off the ground and help him to his feet. Then I turn to the tiny pop star.
“Lena, I will talk to you tomorrow about making arrangements to move the couch. But it’s time you left too.”
Her head whips between Alana and me. There’s a silent conversation between them, girl-code stuff. Lena gives up and she squeezes Alana’s arm and says, "I'll call you later.” The door closes, and we stand in silence. Before the words ‘I’m sorry’ start to form, I cut her off.
“Are you ok?”
“I don’t…” she stammers, and her head dips making her hair shield her face. She looks down at the gun and sighs. “I should go.”
“Why?”
“I never wanted you to see this side of me.” She lowers her head more.
“You already told me about it.” I step towards her.
“Knowing something and witnessing it are two very different things.” She tucks her head in my chest as I wrap my arms around her. “I understand if you want me to leave.”
“Since this whole thing started, you’ve been trying to find excuses to run away from me.” I mumble, kissing her forehead. “But I’m not going anywhere.”
“I like who I am when I’m around you, but I’ve spent so much time as Alana it’s hard to go back to who I was.” She wraps her arms around my waist. “I’m not sure I can.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
We stood in my living room, holding one another for a while. The quiet was killing me, but I knew her gears were still turning. I would hold her like this forever if it might help her realize I want all of her.
I know she’s settled down when she shimmies against me. When I don’t let her go, she scoffs. “It was pretty hot seeing you dismantle my friends though.”
“I know.” I grin.
“Don’t get rid of the couch, I really do like it.”
“We’ll see.”
CHAPTER 21
Grae
Day 6
In the morning, I’m lying in my bed, and everything feels like a fresh start, watching her move through the room like it’s hers. She’s sitting on the edge of my bed, dressed and ready for work. She ordered another set of clothes, and it arrived about a half hour ago—I wish she would just start bringing a bag.
