“What?” I bit out.
“Dirty,” she finally answered. “I felt like your friend tonight. You saw me, you liked me, you respected me… And now I feel like a simple, stupid girl—a dirty secret that needs to sit quiet in a corner and wait for your word to speak or move. I don’t feel like your equal anymore.”
I released her, letting out a bitter laugh as I turned away. “You’re such a kid. A fucking kid.”
Goddamn insecurities and tantrums. It was a year. She couldn’t wait a fucking year?
“I’m not a kid,” she stated. “You’re just a coward. At least Trevor wants me more than anything else.”
I exhaled hard, every muscle in my stomach tightening and burning as I glared at her.
I didn’t think. I grabbed her by the arms and pushed her into the railing in front of the window, hovering down over her face, nearly nose to nose.
I breathed hard, wanting her so goddamn much, but I was pissed beyond everything right now. She had balls to throw that in my face.
Her face twisted up, and she whimpered, “You’re hurting me.”
And I realized my fingers were digging into her arms. I relaxed my hands, trying to calm down, but it was no use. She was right. I was a coward. I wanted everything and to give up nothing.
I wanted her waiting for me and only me. I didn’t want to deal with the stress my family would put on her or me. I didn’t want any opportunities for my brother to win her over while I was gone.
But what was she going to get out of me? Was I enough?
Or was my father right? Was I not worth a damn? Even if I just admitted it to myself, I’d hurt her.
She was too young, I was away all the time, and for the first time in a long time I didn’t like myself. I didn’t like my reflection in her eyes.
She had too much power over me.
I pushed off her, backing up. “This was a mistake,” I bit out, scowling at her. “You’re pretty, and you have a *, but other than that, you’re not special. You’re just ass.”
Her eyebrows nose-dived, and her eyes pooled with tears, looking broken.
No one made me feel like shit for who I was, and ripping out her heart wasn’t going to be enough. It needed to be crushed, so she’d never pull that shit again.
I grabbed her shoulders, shaking her and hearing her cry out. “You hear me?” I growled in her face. “You’re not special. You’re nobody!”
And I released her, twisting around and charging down the stairs as my stomach rolled. My chest hollowed, and I sucked in air, struggling to breathe.
I couldn’t look at her. I couldn’t see her pain and face it.
So I bolted. Making my way over to the booth, I dug my keys out of my pocket and tossed them on the table.
“Make sure Rika gets home,” I told the guys, unable to hide the anger on my face. “I’m walking.”
“What the hell happened?” Damon demanded, seeing how pissed I was.
But I just shook my head. “I just have to get out of here. Get her home.”
And I left the three of them sitting at the table as I pulled the hood over my head and left in the rain.
Present
HAD TO GET BACK TO THE CITY. YOUR CAR IS OUTSIDE.
I stared down at the text Michael had sent me four days ago when I’d woken up in his bedroom alone.
Filthy, bruised, sore, and alone.
There’d been nothing from him since then, and I hadn’t seen him, either. After our little trip to the catacombs, he must’ve gone over to my house and picked up my car for me before leaving and texting me from the road.
How could he have just left me like that?
I’d heard on the news that his team had gone to Chicago for an exhibition match before the regular season started, but I saw the lights in his penthouse on this morning, so I knew he was home now.
But despite the fact that I knew better, I was still hurt. Finally having him, feeling him inside, was something I hadn’t been able to push out of my head the last four days. It was better than I ever imagined.
He should’ve woken me to say goodbye. Or called to see how I was, at least. I’d just lost my house, and I still couldn’t get a hold of my mother, even though I’d been dialing for days. I also had no luck getting a hold of Mr. or Mrs. Crist on their cell phones, either. If I didn’t hear from anyone by tomorrow, it was time to go to the police. My mother never went this long without calling.
I stuffed my phone back in my purse, picking out one of the books of matches I’d put in there when I brought the box back with me from Thunder Bay. I slid open the lid and inhaled the scent, a quick moment of relief hitting me before it was gone.
Putting it back in my bag, I continued down the aisle of the used bookstore, perusing old sci-fi paperbacks and trying to distract myself.
I’d be damned if I was the one to call him.
“Hey,” I heard a voice call out.
I turned, seeing Alex approach me with a hand in her jeans pocket and a smile on her face. “I saw you through the window and thought I’d say hi. How are you doing?”