“He was just blowing off steam,” I told him.
“Yeah, he was, blowin’ off steam at your expense, my expense, Anna’s expense and she’s fuckin’ dead. Blowin’ off steam which meant you were night-time Zombie Nina, actin’ like your world had crumbled and you wouldn’t let me in to help. Blowin’ off steam which reinforced whatever fucked up idea you had about Anna and me in your head which meant you didn’t fuckin’ talk to me about it and we ended up havin’ a spat, you gettin’ another fuckin’ wild hair and takin’ off and then gettin’ worked over by Damon. Yeah, babe, Harry was just blowin’ off steam.”
I heard everything he said but there was only one part of it that hit me like a bullet.
He called that morning a spat.
I got up on an elbow in the bed and looked down at him, whispering, “Spat?”
His arm came up, crossing his chest and his fingers curled around the back of my neck to contain me should I wish to retreat any further and he said, “Duchess, wake up. This is us, we’re gonna fight. You gotta learn how to shake it off.”
I blinked.
“Shake it off?” I whispered and this time my whisper was both incredulous and lethal.
“Yeah, shake it off,” he confirmed, ignoring my toxic tone completely. “Either that or learn how to talk to me, how to ask a fuckin’ question once in awhile without lookin’ scared as a jackrabbit about whatever answer you might get.”
I blinked. Max kept talking.
“I ain’t a figment of your imagination, Duchess, I didn’t start my existence the night you drove up to my house. I had a life, a wife. I got a family, friends, a history. I fucked around a lot, lookin’ for somethin’ and not findin’ it, just like you.”
I tried to contain my anger and reminded him, “Yes, Max, you had a wife who was your world.”
“Yeah, she was, until her world stopped. Mine kept goin’, babe.”
“Harry said when a man has a woman who is his world, and he loses her, nothing will take the place of that.”
I watched Max’s irritation grow to anger; he twisted toward me and got up on an elbow too, all without releasing my neck.
“Don’t lie in bed next to me and throw in my face the shit Harry fed you last night,” he warned.
“But you admitted it,” I told him.
“I fuckin’ did not.”
“You told me she was your world.”
His hand tightened on my neck. “Yeah, she was, Duchess. Was.”
“Harry’s a man and men know men.”
“Harry’s no man, Nina. Haven’t you figured that out?”
Okay, he had a point there.
“All right,” I agreed and foolishly went on. “That might be true but not five minutes ago you relived that nightmare, Max, I watched you do it and you cannot lie there and tell me you’re over Anna. You loved her and her loss broke you.”
His eyes turned to stone indicating his anger deepening, quite significantly, and he clipped, “Jesus, you’re a piece of work.”
“What?”
He rolled into me so I fell to my back and he was partially on me, though not on my tender side but I wouldn’t have noticed even if he pressed his full weight into me because he’d gone way passed angry right back to what he was this morning. He was furious and I braced for impact.
“You’re a piece of work, babe.” His voice was biting as he repeated himself, his face dipping close to mine. “Is this what you wanna hear?” he asked and didn’t wait for my answer just kept on going. “She was beautiful, she was funny, sweet, mellow, laid back. So fuckin’ mellow, Christ. Life was good for Anna. She loved livin’ it and didn’t let much get under her skin. We probably had two arguments the whole time we were together. Life with Anna was contentment, absolute. She didn’t get in my face, she didn’t get in moods, she didn’t throw attitude. She woke up happy and went to bed happy and she did everything she could to give me that same harmony and I loved every fuckin’ minute of it.”
My mouth went dry at his words and I tried to slide out from under him but he didn’t let me move an inch as he carried on.
“Not you, no. You get in my face, your mood changes like lightnin’, you throw attitude better’n any woman I ever met and I grew up with Mom and Kami, so, seriously, babe, that’s sayin’ somethin’.”
“Get off me,” I whispered, his words worse than Damon’s blows, far, far worse. I was pushing against his chest but it was like I didn’t even speak and my hands on him didn’t exist.
“You’re blonde and Anna was blonde, that’s about all you two share. You’re night, Duchess, she was day.”
I felt the tears hit my eyes and I couldn’t stop them from sliding out the sides.