"You are pushing me too hard."
Frowning, I kiss her forehead. "I'm an impatient man. I want Locke dead yesterday, and for you to feel safe. I forget the world doesn't bow to my fucking will."
Darla stares up at me. "I might never feel safe or be healthy again. Killing Locke is great because he's an evil shit, but there's no easy fix for me."
"I know."
"Do you really? I don't think you or Shelley understand. You both think I need to have time and maybe therapy."
"How do you know we're wrong when it's been such a short time?"
"I don't want you getting your hopes up," she says, trying to pull out of my grasp.
"Why? Life is all about the ups and downs. I'm willing to accept the downs if the ups are worth it. With you, the ups are perfect."
Even grinning, Darla rolls her eyes. "Perfect, my ass."
"This ass, you mean?" I ask, reaching down and cupping her curvy butt.
"I might never let you see me naked."
"I'll survive."
"I'll remember you said that when you get annoyed and dump me."
"I'll remember you said that when I don't get annoyed and dump you. My memory's better."
"True."
My swelling cock makes thinking damn impossible, but I force myself to think about something beyond fucking.
"I have to kill Locke," I mutter, staring into her eyes.
"You will."
"And if I don't? What if I fail?"
"You won't."
"Promise?" I ask, startling myself by the fear in my voice.
Darla studies me and nods. "I promise."
Logically, her words have no power. In my heart, they do, though. I need Darla to believe in me because I'm beginning to doubt myself. Killing Locke has become personal, and I don't know how to work with a lack of perspective. My contractor instincts are shot.
40
~~~
Darla
Owning Everything I Am
Troy is on edge all morning. He paces back and forth from the living room to the spare room. I know he's checking the cameras for suspicious activity, but he won't admit he's nervous. While he paces, I work on my puzzle. I've nearly finished my masterpiece, leaving the entire coffee table filled with my work.
When I set in the final piece, I look at Troy, who stands in the kitchen.
"I finished."
"Super."
Frowning at his tone, I'm confused by his mood swings. We just talked about love. Now Troy acts as if he's ready to run.
"I was a homebody before Locke took me," I say, taking a picture of my puzzle to send to Shelley. "I never went anywhere or did anything without my sister and her kids."
Watching me with irritation in his beautiful eyes, Troy says nothing.
"After Locke is dead, I won't want to go out all the time or travel."
His expression is his only reply, and the message is clear. He wants me to shut up.
"So I guess I'll have to dump you," I say, breaking apart the puzzle and shoving the pieces into the box. "Or you could dump me, but I think I'd prefer to be the dumper."
Finding his voice finally, he steps into the living room. "What are you talking about?"
"You're bored now, so you'll be bored after Locke is dead. The sex won't be so exciting, and you won't have to save me anymore. So we'll break up, and you can have fun while I stay home and relax."
Troy stares at me, again refusing to get into a conversation. I finish putting away the puzzle and return the box to the pile Shelley bought me. Looking over the other choices, I choose one with a puppy chasing a cat through a field. A happy puzzle for an unhappy woman, I set it on the coffee table.
"I'm not bored," Troy says eventually.
"Could have fooled me."
"It's my job to remain on guard."
"Then you've done a shitty job until today because we sat and talked for long periods of time. Or we watched a movie or fucked. Yeah, lots of distractions, but now you can't spare a second to be nice."
"Nice?" he grumbles. Troy looks ready to say something more but decides against it.
Ignoring him, I dump the pieces on the table and begin working on the new puzzle.
"Darla," he says softly, stepping closer.
"Leave me alone."
"I need to keep you safe."
"Fine."
His fingers graze my cheek. "I don't think I could survive losing you. I'm not my father, and no other woman would fix my loss."
I stare up at Troy, who wipes the tears from my cheeks.
"You're my anchor out here in the world," I whisper. "I'm trying so hard not to give into the darkness, but it's safer when I hide in my head. Without you, I can't stay in the open. I know you don't understand."
"I do. I was a drunken mess for months. It was better than being sober and facing my demons. I know you're scared, but I'm right here."