Dumb Girl. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb.
“LOOK AT ME.” CHASE’S FINGERS grip my chin, and I flinch as he tilts my head, forcing me to make eye contact. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
My nose stings as tears threaten. “There’s no excuse for putting your hands on me, Chase.”
“And you’re right. I am a louse of a man for touching you like that. But my jealousy got the best of me. To think of someone else getting to touch what’s mine—to imagine Linc and you behind my back—angers me. You’re mine, Pet. Not his. Not anyone else’s.” He sighs and softens his stare. “Tell me you forgive me.”
Jealousy is no excuse. He can’t talk himself out of this one. “Chase…”
“Please, Pet,” he begs. “I love you. Let me show you how sorry I am.”
I close my eyes as he brushes his fingertips down my cheek. I can’t bear to look at him when he spits those tainted words in my face, like that’s going to fix things. His touch feels cold, unlike when Linc had his hands on me. The way his chest felt pressed against my naked one. Pieces of last night have been slowly coming back. The way he carried me into my room. The way he confessed to always wanting to be with me. The comfort I felt knowing he would never hurt me physically or emotionally.
I shouldn’t have asked him to stay with me, but I needed him. And waking up this morning made me realize that I may need him more than before.
“Chase, I can’t—”
Chase places his thumb over my lips, silencing my words. “Don’t make any decisions now. Think about it. Let me show you how much you mean to me. I promise, nothing like that will happen again.” He motions for the roses. “I brought those as a peace offering—to show you just how sorry I was.” Then he smirks. “Besides, you have to forgive me. What will your family say if they find out you broke my heart?”
His lame attempt at a joke has my mind churning with thoughts. What will my family say? My mother will be heartbroken that I let the best catch—in her eyes—go. My brothers will be mad, thinking I wasted a good thing. No one would believe me if I said Chase was the bad guy.
Perfect Chase.
I close my eyes, fighting back tears. He’s right. My family would be disappointed in me.
“We can work through this,” he assures me in his normal, reasonable Chase way. “Let’s get some dinner later and we can go see that movie you’ve been dying to see.”
Fight, Reagan. Fight for what you want. Don’t worry about what others will think.
He leans in and places a small kiss to my forehead. “Maybe we can pick up where we left off that one day on your couch. Please forgive me.” Another kiss to my nose. “This is me begging, Pet. Forgive me.” He places one last kiss to my numb lips and pulls away at the sound of his phone chirping.
Pulling it from his slacks, he checks the message and steps away. “This is important. We will continue this later. Are we okay?”
I can’t do anything but stare at him. How can he think we are good? We are most definitely not okay. But how can I just stand here and say nothing? Because I’m a forgiving person and everyone deserves a second chance. Just like Jimmy and Phil and Josh?
He doesn’t wait for my response. He leans in placing a quick peck to my lips. “I’ll see you at work. Love you.” And then he is walking out of my house.
I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting back the tears of guilt, shame, disappointment that I couldn’t just stand up to him. I couldn’t tell him we were done. My fists squeeze tight, and I hold my breath trying to fight off the anger inside me. It’s when I break that I know I can’t take any more. I throw my head back and scream. I scream so loud, if my neighbors weren’t old and deaf, they would be concerned.
Feeling no release, I turn, looking for anything in sight to destroy. I spot the exaggerated array of roses he brought, sitting in the middle of the kitchen table. A peace offering. Well, I’m not feeling very peaceful. Without thought, I storm over to them, and with one swift motion, I toss them off my counter and watch them slowly crash to the floor. The vase shatters instantly as the roses and water flood my kitchen floor.
I’m heaving, trying to catch my breath as I stare at the mess. I glance at the table where the flowers once stood and I notice the stolen coffee mug holding two vibrant yellow daffodils. I suddenly can’t pull my eyes away.
Two beautiful flowers.
Immediately, I know where they came from. My heart begins to steady at the comforting thought of us. Reagan and Linc. Easy. Fun. Best friends. Safe. Thick as thieves.
The mug makes me laugh because we are thieves. For each other’s heart. Why can’t life be fair? Why does what I want have to be so complicated? Why can’t everyone else see what I see? A man with such a big heart. Wounded by the mistakes he regrets and the dream to be someone better. I don’t see him as the troubled soul he makes himself out to be. I see him as this kind man, who would do anything for the people he loves. A man who has suffered and is aching to be loved. He isn’t your typical white-collar guy who strives for success, has his life together, or demands power. He’s easygoing. He enjoys the simple things in life. Laughs at himself and doesn’t take life too seriously.
He’s the comfort I crave in a world where everyone expects something of me. To be perfect. Successful to make the right choices, not the choices I want.
The tears start to flow, causing the vision of these beautiful flowers to fog. “I just want you,” I whisper, admitting it to the ghosts in the room. I want Linc. I want him to be the person I wake up to, the person who makes my days brighter. The one who tells me to be who I want to be and makes sure I stand by it. I want him to be the person who makes me feel whole. And I know he would do just that.
But I just don’t know how that would affect the people around me. I begin to cry harder, knowing how unfair life is. Will my family accept my decision? Will Linc even accept me? I bend down, not paying attention to the shattered glass, and I try picking up the mess. Red begins to cover my fingers from the sharp edges of the glass, and I don’t even realize the pain until the noticeable amount of blood begins to cover my floor.
I finish cleaning up the mess, and before walking out of my kitchen, I press my nose to the daffodils, taking in their sweet scent. I have to make a choice. I can’t keep being the person everyone expects me to be. If I do, it will cost me my happiness. Am I willing to sacrifice my own happiness to meet everyone else’s expectations?
I drive to work in a fog. My eyes burn from crying. My palms sting pressed against my steering wheel from the cuts I got from the glass. I should have called out sick. For all people know, I’m sick. But then again I am sick. Love sick, heart sick, decision sick.
I get into work and make my way to my office. Passing Ram’s office, I hear laughter. Two familiar voices. I backtrack and lean against the open doorframe while I watch my brother and Linc, my two best friends, laugh and cut up, pointing at some drawings.
I don’t make myself noticed as I watch them interact with such ease. As if they’ve been friends for a lifetime. Ram compliments Linc on an idea he makes while Linc beams with pride. I swipe the tear that rolls down my cheek just before Ram lifts his head, catching me as I attempt to sneak away.
“Hey you,” my brother calls out, concern flickering in his eyes. “Spying on us?”
I take in a deep breath and plaster a smile on my face. “Of course not. Making sure you two are behaving.”
Ram seems to examine me and doesn’t miss a beat. “Have you been crying?”
At that, Linc’s shoulder tense. He’s on alert, and I know he’s about to bolt from his seat to come to my rescue. I quickly offer him the silent, I’m fine look, so he’ll stay calm. “Yeah, I was listening to some sappy audio book. Got to the best part just before I got to work. Stupid romance novels.”
I know Linc doesn’t believe me. He knows me better. So does Ram. My brother continues to scrutinize me, as if he will get more answers from continuing to assess me. I flash him a wide smile, hiding my emotions. “Okay, well onwards to work I go! Have fun, boys!” I turn to leave but Ram calls my name.
“Reagan, by the way, Dani is really excited for Saturday. Seems like your beau is going to show us a good time. I think if you don’t marry him, Mom is going to.” He chuckles, but I can’t find it in me to find any humor in the situation.
I make the cruel mistake of glancing at Linc. His jaw is set tight, and I can see his hands forming into white fists.
I can’t do this.
With a wave to them both, I turn and rush to my office.
I hide in my office for the rest of the day. I tell Clara that I do not want to be disturbed for anything so I don’t have to face Linc when he leaves my brother’s office. I fill my schedule with fake meetings, so when Chase tries to make lunch plans with me, he sees how terribly busy I am.
And I am busy. Busy trying to figure out my life.
So far, the best plan is to move to Antarctica and become a deep-sea fisherman, where I don’t even need to worry about having a sex life, because I will smell like raw sea life. Ew. Lesbianism crosses my mind. My new Tumblr girlfriend would make a good companion. But then again, I would probably want more after a while. Five seconds just wouldn’t stay fulfilling forever.
I go as low as debating internally on marrying Chase and making my whole family proud of me. That only causes me to start crying all over again.
I think about a life with Linc. A life where my family disowns me and we pick up and travel, doing whatever the heck we want. I venture far enough into my fantasy to where we are naming our three kids when Clara buzzes in, letting me know my two o’clock is ready for me.
I end up making it through my day, avoiding all my problems, but I know it will be impossible to avoid them once I get home. One reason being that I temporarily live with one of them. Not that Linc is a problem. He is a solution in so many ways. I just don’t know how to make the equation result into a positive one.
When I finally get home, and see his car isn’t here, I grab some food from my pantry and lock myself in my room. Hours later, I hear him come home. I’m curious where he’s been, but I refuse to give in to my temptations. If I do, I will end up pretending I am dying of an illness and ask to sleep in his bed… Naked because…well, because of the illness.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I’m startled from thoughts of us tangled naked under the sheet when he bangs on the door. A quick glance at the clock tells me it’s after nine. I throw my covers over my head so he won’t hear me breathe. As if he has ultrasensitive hearing.
A few minutes pass and I hear him go into his room, shutting the door. Disappointment settles in my chest as I turn to my side and peek out from the covers. I stare at the wall we share. Such a simple barrier. Even though I refuse to face him right now, a small part of me wishes he’d just bang down my door to see me.
I swear, a girl’s mind is never sane.
I lie with the covers pulled to my chin, listening for any movement. I’m curious as to what he’s doing. Is he going straight to bed? Wondering about what I’m doing? Using his fist to work out all the tension we’ve seemed to build between one another since he moved in a few days ago? Okay, perv! My self-reprimanding still doesn’t stop me from thinking it. Maybe I can set my vibrator to low and get off too—
The chirping of my phone interrupts my grand plan. I grab it off my nightstand and see Linc’s name across my screen.
Abraham L: I did something today. It was naughty. But also self-fulfilling.
My emotions jam into my throat. If he is going to share a sex story about him and some woman with me, I don’t know if I can handle it.
Abraham L: I wanted to show you, but you’re sleeping. If you wake up and want to see it, text me. But I must warn you… Once you see it, you will be considered an accomplice to my naughty ways.
Now he’s got my attention. I’m unsure if showing me some pictures of him doing something raunchy would make me an accomplice, but now I can’t stop thinking about what it might be. Forgetting I’m sleeping, I send a text back.
Me: Let me have it.
Abraham L: Ahhh, Sleeping Beauty is awakened by the lust for being bad. Acknowledge that you are just as naughty if you see it.
Jesus.
Me: I acknowledge, just show me.
Abraham L: No closing your eyes after you’ve seen it. You can’t pretend you didn’t see.
I roll my eyes as the small smile spreads across my face. Always making such a production.
Me: Promise. I’m just as naughty as you are.
Okay, maybe I should have rephrased that last text. Ugh. I toss myself onto my back. Why did I just have to write that—
Just then the chirp sounds, notifying me of the incoming text. I brace myself for what I’m about to see. If it’s him with another chick, then I’ll probably cry myself to sleep and realize that whatever fantasies I have are just make-believe and move on. I will maybe marry Chase or move to Antarctica, where I can live the reminder of my life in sorrow. I take a deep breath and swipe open the text.
Abraham L: <PHOTO ATTACHED>
The gasp, then sound of my laughter, echoes throughout my room. The picture is of Linc holding a miniature statue. He did not steal that.
Me: He’s going to kill you if he finds out you stole that. My mother gave that to him.
Abraham L: Well then, he kills us both. Accomplices remember? #thieves
I can’t help but giggle. My mom gave Roman a porcelain statue of a mother and son holding hands for his thirtieth birthday, because yes, he is a big baby. And Roman being the momma’s boy he is, loved it. I swear I even saw a tear when he opened the darn thing. If I’m not mistaken, the real reason his last secretary got fired was because she knocked it off his desk, almost breaking off the son’s head.
Me: You’re so bad.
Abraham L: I’d like to consider myself thoughtful. It’s important a garden has a good array of trinkets. Just doing my friendly part for Saturday’s extravaganza.
I almost forgot about Saturday. The day I’ve been looking forward to ever since I coerced him into helping me. I should cancel. I shouldn’t make him help me when I just plan on moving across the world before the plants even sprout. All that work for nothing. It’s also probably not a good idea for us to be so close to each other. In the September heat, getting dirty as he digs holes shirtless, with his muscles flexing and his tattoos on full display.
Yeah.
Bad idea.
Cancel, Reagan.
Me: Glad you don’t want to disappoint me. I have high expectations for Saturday.
Dumb girl.
Dumb.
Dumb.
Dumb.
It’s clear I enjoy torturing myself. Not only did I not cancel my off-the-record date with Linc, but I spent the remainder of the week egging it on! I did my duty of avoiding both men on Thursday and Friday. But at night, I would lie in bed while Linc sent me text messages of plants he’d researched or trinkets he’d thought would look best for our masterpiece. I about peed myself when he sent over a picture of Roman’s electric shaver—not even wanting to know how he snatched that—and scolded him for the bath toys he took of Molly’s. I made him put those back, not caring how he did it, but after a good lecture, he said they were no longer part of our plan.
Now that Saturday has finally rolled around, I can’t stop feeling so antsy. I’m nervous about our day. I can’t explain why. It isn’t a date or anything. It’s just two buddies planting a garden. But it is also the first time I have seen him since Wednesday morning. He was gone when I woke up this morning, claiming that he had to run an errand. It allowed me the time to change my outfit a trillion times, fix my hair double that, and apply four different colors of lip gloss.
What is wrong with me? I need to calm down.
But I can’t.
I’m so nervous.
And for some completely silly reason, I want to impress Linc.
I adjust my new peach summer dress—debating on whether or not it’s the one—when I hear his car pull into the driveway. “Oh, heck. You’re being ridiculous.” I pull myself away from my mirror and greet him at the door.
As soon as I open the door, his green eyes skim over my appearance. A dimple forms on one side as he grins crookedly at me. God, that smile always does me in.
“Well, look at you,” he says and winks at me. “A blossoming peach on a hot summer day.” Linc gives me a playful whistle as he carries in a tray of coffee and a bag of donuts from our favorite small café a few blocks from my house.
“Oh, this thing? It’s old and I didn’t want to ruin any of my good clothes.”
Linc shrugs his shoulders as he saunters into the kitchen. “New or not, it looks sexy on you.”
I can hear the appreciation in his voice and it’s anything but joking. Heat floods through me. I blush at his back, the compliment making me practically dizzy on my feet. I begin walking after him when I see something hanging from my side. My eyes widen, a small cuss word leaving my lips as I rip the store tag off the dress. I crumble it up and stick it in my pocket. “So… Um, what should we do first? I assume start tilling.”
Linc drops the items on my counter and pulls out one of the delicious-looking donuts from the bag. He turns offering me his dangerous, dimpled smile, the one that probably burns the panties off all women, and slowly stalks over to me. My heartrate quickens and my body temperature sky-rockets.
What is he doing?
He’s now so close to me that I can smell his cologne, which makes my nipples perk. Bending down to meet me at eye level, he lifts his hand, and brings a donut up to my lips.
Oh, God.
This is not sexual.
This is just a donut.
I am just opening my mouth to take a bite. Of a donut.
Focus, Reagan.
My lips part as he places the mouthwatering old-fashioned glazed donut on my lips, allowing me to take a small bite. All harmless.
Until I moan.
His gaze darkens and drops to my mouth. “Perfect,” he says, his voice husky. “Right?”
I have a feeling there is double meaning all over that comment. I take a step back. “Uh, yeah. They sure know how to glaze a donut.”
His jaw clenches as he stares at me with heat-filled eyes for a moment longer than a best friend should. With a shake of his head, he sticks the donut in his mouth, taking a large bite, and turns back, grabbing the coffee before heading toward my back door. “We’re burning daylight, Rey. Let’s go get dirty.” And with that, he’s out the door.
God, dirty doesn’t even describe my wrong, oh-so-wrong, brain right now.
We are two hours into our garden day and I’m kicking myself for not setting up a secret video camera in my backyard and recording Lincoln Carter getting dirty. I’ve taken about a gazillion breaks to get water because I needed to cool off. As in cool my body temperature by fanning my darn lady parts. I’ve imagined jumping on him, tearing his pants off, clawing at his skin, using the garden hose in the crudest of ways and last, but not worst, having him shove me into our freshly tilled soil and getting me so dirty that I die of the best orgasm of my life.
It’s settled.
I have major issues, and it’s a good thing I’m moving to Antarctica.
I do want to point out, for the record, that Linc is not so innocent. That bastard knows what he’s doing. He knew what he was doing when he took his shirt off, claiming he didn’t want to dirty himself any more than he’d planned to, and that my eyes would take interest in his bare chest. And he knew what he was doing when he asked me to stand in front of him to “block the sun,” because that was merely so I’d have a front-row view to his bulging muscles as he pushed the tiller through the soil. It was as if he was tempting me to lose my control and attack him. Some friend he was being.
We took a break to eat lunch, where I made us some turkey sandwiches. We ate on the lawn while chatting about this and that. I commented on him having a different car, to which he explained he was just bored with it and wanted something different. I brought up him meeting with my brother, but he just brushed it off, saying it was nothing and if it turned into something I would be the first to know. Lastly, I tried prying into where he goes all day but he seemed less than willing to fork up that information. I told myself it was none of my business so I let it go.
One day, I’m going to make him tell me everything.
But since I’m carrying around my own little secrets, I can’t exactly demand he divulge all of his.
Once we finish and clean up, it’s time to plant.
“What the hell is all this shit, anyway?” Linc asks while picking up a tray of red peppers. “Are you planning to live off the land for the rest of your life?” He smirks at me. “Or are you just wanting to plant this crap so you can take a selfie and hashtag something eco-friendly for all your friends to know you love your earth? #CucumbersSaveLives.”
I laugh and swat him with my hand held rototiller. “No, you nerd. Those are peppers and some are vegetables, some are fruits, and some are herbs. It’ll help save money and trips to the grocery store for one tomato or a tablespoon of basil.”
He’s just staring at me like I’ve grown two heads. “Basil? For what? You don’t cook.”
“Yes, I do!” I reply, shocked. “I love to cook.”
“You’ve never cooked for me,” he says with a faux pout. “And pouring Fireball down my throat is not the same thing.” At that, he snorts with laughter.
With my hands on my hips, I give him my best you don’t know what you’re talking about look. “Well maybe you never asked me,” I argue. “Tell me next time you’re hungry, and I will.”
Sometimes I just want to stick my foot in my mouth. Because that just gave Linc the invitation to look me up and down, his eyes gleaming wickedly. “I’m hungry.”
And I’m now as wet as a slip-n-slide.
“Well…n-no food until you finish.” I break eye contact and bend over to pick up a tray of cherry tomatoes. I won’t deny that it may have accidently given Linc a peep show down the front of my dress. I hand him the row and he grabs for it purposely brushing his fingers along mine.
Okay!
“I think I need a water break. I’ll be right back.” I drop the empty container and start hurrying towards my back door. It’s then I feel the rigid coldness slam at my back. I screech as I turn. Linc is holding the hose spraying me. “What the hell!?”
“You said you needed a water break. I wanted to save you the trouble of having to go all the way inside. It’s like the thirty-seventh time you’ve done that. It leaves me all alone, and I miss you.”
My mouth is still in the O-shape from the shock of his move. I can’t believe he would—
Another attack hits me when he sprays me directly in the chest, soaking my dress. “Linc!”
“Yes?”
“That’s cold!” I bark, stomping toward him.
“Then it’s doing its job,” he says, his tone matter-of-fact. “Do you feel cool yet?” He sprays me again, but this time in the face. I scream, trying to block the spray, while I sprint toward him. He must forget that I was raised with two older brothers. I make it to him and jump. I tackle him, and he bursts out laughing in shock. My bold move manages to distract him into dropping the hose. It also manages to make him slide in the now-soaked soil and slip. We both go down, him turning so he takes the brunt of the fall. Once in the soiled garden, he flips us so I’m now in the mud, pinning my hands down so I don’t try and harm him.
Our eyes meet for a heated moment.
Even the icy cold water can’t cool me down.
“Good thing you wore that old dress. Would have hated to get such a pretty new thing so muddy,” he says, his voice a little bit hoarse. My voice is stuck in my throat, unable to find any comeback. I can’t stop thinking about how good his hard body feels on top of mine. And it’s impossible not to acknowledge the hardness resting on my hip.
With nothing coming out of our mouths, it leaves us silent—with only our eyes doing the talking.
I want him to kiss me. I want with every fiber in my soul for him to place his lips on mine. I know he wants to. His eyes are on fire and they’re blazing with need.
“Linc…” I say breathlessly. Out of warning or need, I’m not sure. I want this. Him. But I want it to be right. I don’t want it to be while I’m not available, fully. “You’re lying on my freshly planted peppers.”
And our connection breaks.
He must have seen the battle in my eyes. I’m thankful and disappointed at the same time. He lifts his finger and slowly wipes a chunk of mud off my cheek. When he does the same to the other side, I realize what he’s doing.
“Linc…” I say his name again, this time in warning.
“What? You’d make a good warrior. Princess Pepper Destroyer.” His laugh fills my entire backyard as I lift my hand and sucker punch him in the ribs. He rolls off me, lying on his back in the mud, not giving a care about getting dirty.
I sit up looking around us.
“We’re a mess.” Literally and figuratively.
Linc turns his head to me. “Did you want me to spray you off?”
I give him an eye roll and stand. He laughs and joins me.
We silently plant the rest of the garden until the last tray of mint and basil are underground. I don’t know where his mind is but mine is completely on him.
“It looks perfect.” I slap my hands together, discarding the soil buildup on my hands. We’re standing next to each other, observing our masterpiece.
Linc throws the shovel and swipes a layer of sweat off his brow. “We’re not done yet.”
I look around, not seeing anything else to plant. I’m about to ask him what we missed when he takes off, returning with a handful of items.
My smile explodes across my face as I begin shaking my head.
“Don’t shake your head at me, woman. Hold these.” He hands me Roman’s statue, the razor, and a few other random items he’s seemed to steal from my brother along the way. Bending down, he takes Roman’s nine iron and jams it into the soil. I begin handing him each item, and with each one, he places it sporadically throughout the garden.
I can’t help but cover my mouth and giggle the whole time, until the last item is placed. Once complete, Linc stands wiping off his hands, and turns to me. “Now it’s done. Garden of Thievery we shall call it.”
I smile and nod, because I think it’s perfect.
“Well, it’s getting late and I’m hungry,” he says, mischief dancing in his eyes as he rubs his dirty, sculpted abs. “I’m pretty sure you said all I had to do was tell you and you would feed me.”
I smile at his obvious antics. “You’re correct. For all your hard work, I’ll feed you. Anything you want.” Ugh, foot in mouth, again. “You grocery shop, I cook. Deal?” I try and save myself, which I do. I stick my hand out and we shake on it. His hand is warm in mine, and I don’t want to let go.
But I do.
I always let him go.
We go inside and take our showers, separately of course, and when I make a grocery list filled with ingredients for the fettuccini Alfredo with sausage meatballs and spinach with grated Parmesan cheese he requested, I hand him my list and he’s off.
After blow drying my hair and slipping into a pair of tight black yoga pants and a flimsy bright yellow tank top, I play around in my kitchen, pulling out pots and pans, searching for dry herbs and any random items I’ll need for Linc’s over-the top-meal. I get a good look out my kitchen window which overlooks the backyard and laugh at the golf club sticking out of the ground. “Roman is going to kill me when he sees that.”
But for some reason, I don’t care. It’s worth it. I can’t stop smiling at each and every memory of today. My cheeks burn thinking about the parts of Linc that shouldn’t be on my mind. As I pull down the strainer from a cabinet, there’s one thought that’s playing on repeat in my mind.
Lincoln makes me happy.
The happy that everyone wishes for.
He’s the first face I see when I have something important to share. Who I want to confide in. He’s the person I want to spend my time with, laugh with, be with. I want to be with Linc. I know it and feel it so deep in my bones. If he feels differently, then so be it. But I can’t continue living this lie. The one where I pretend not to be in love with my best friend. I hear my front door open and close. It’s too soon for Linc to be back.
“Did you forget something?” I call out.
I turn and see Chase storm into my kitchen all decked out in his golfer garb. “Where the hell were you today?”
His tone startles me, causing me to retreat a few steps back. Chase’s normally calm features are contorted into an expression of rage. His face is bright red and his chest heaves with his breaths.
“I-I was here,” I stammer. I’m completely caught off-guard by his intrusion. “I told you, I had stuff to do around the—”
“You had to be with me today,” he snarls. “You stood me up in front of your entire family!” He raises his voice and his eyes darken. I’m reminded quickly of the Chase I saw in his office earlier this week and it begins to unnerve me.
“I’m sorry but I told you—”
My words get caught in my throat when he seizes me, both hands gripping my throat. Rather forcefully, he pushes me against the wall. He isn’t easy on me. His fingers digging into my skin will undoubtedly result in bruising. “I did all this for you. You think I enjoyed carting your family around? You were supposed to be there. Showing your family how devoted you are to me!” he seethes, spittle spraying my face.
“Ch-Chase, let me go,” I choke out. “You’re hurting me.”
His grip tightens to the point where I’m having trouble breathing. I claw at his fingers. “Good,” he snaps. “Maybe then you’ll understand that standing me up was selfish. You looked like such a child. A stubborn, petulant child.” He takes my body and slams me against the wall. “Is that what you’ve become? A child?” Again, another slam. With each shove, he threatens to knock the wind out of me. I begin fighting in his grip. “Need someone to teach you how to behave?”
My breath hisses from me as I struggle to say my words that are filled with venom. “Let me go, you asshole.”
He laughs but it’s far from funny. His rage has intensified with each passing second. “The mouth on you now, Pet. Did you pick that up from your stray dog? Is he teaching you his filth?” He slams me once more against the wall, this time causing me to gasp for air because it feels as though he crushes my windpipe.
When he loosens his grip, I rasp out my words. “That stray dog is a billion times more of a man than you will ever be, you fucking piece of—”
His free hand raises and thrashes across my face, his knuckles cracking against my mouth. I wince at the searing pain in my lip, automatically feeling the wetness of blood as it runs down my chin. My knees buckle beneath me as stars dance around me.
At seeing his handy work, he quickly releases me and steps back. I grab at my neck, trying to suck in as much air as I can while trying not to collapse.
“Y-You do this to me,” he stammers out as he spears his fingers through his hair, messing it up. His crazed eyes meet mine. “You make me do this.”
I’m starting to shake. I wipe my chin and pull my hand away to find it covered in blood. When my eyes meet his, I shoot him the most hateful glare I can muster. Be brave, Reagan. You deserve better. “Get out of my house,” I rasp out. “We’re done. And if you’re smart, you’ll put in your notice before my brothers get wind of this.” I stand my ground despite the trembling that overtakes me, hoping he backs down before I do.
He stares blankly at me as if he’s still trying to process what just happened.
“I said GET OUT!” I choke out tearfully and point toward the door.
His brows furrow together. “We’re not done here.”
I glare at him until he turns and leaves.
The moment I hear my front door slam, my body begins to shake uncontrollably. I slide down the wall, collapsing onto the floor before breaking down in sobs.
I need my best friend.
I need Linc.