CHINA
The cute cop scruffs up his hair, then guzzles the remnants of his beer before speaking. “Ladies, and I use that term loosely, I’m going to join my friend.” Trevor rises from his seat beside Harlow and follows after Risen.
“That was a cunt move,” Harlow huffs.
“Harlot! That was uncalled for,” Catty scolded.
“What? It’s true. And it’s not like you would’ve said it, Cathryne.” Snapping her fingers, Harlow tries to garner my full attention. “You were being an over the top bitch to the guy, Doll. What the fuck was it for?”
Rationalizing it in my own mind before I speak up, everything I come up with only justifies her comment. “Don’t be mad at her, Catty. I was.” Grasping my sweating drink off the coaster, I suck back the remaining liquid.
“You crushed that guy in a one fell swoop,” Hallee says softly, and yet at the same time, in a way that’s able to cut me to the quick. Hallette is very controlled in her conversations, and is the one that thinks before speaking at all times. She’s not known for being harsh with her words.
Did I deserve it? Hell yeah.
“Fine.” Rising off the chair, I set the cup on the table and chase after Risen. There’s not one word of protest from any of my friends, or Cassidy. The liquid sloshing its way around my stomach as I walk an uneven pattern makes me feel even worse for my attitude. Stomping out of the room with my head hung low, and a wiggly step in my stride, I know I deserve the attitude from the girls. Expecting I’ll have to dole out a massive amount of groveling to the good officer and his friend for my poorly directed temper tantrum, I set out in search. I have no idea where he or his friend traipsed off to, so I start with the most probable places for a guy to hide with his buddy as they drink on this side of the house.
Checking the pool, the gym, the audio/video room, the track, the mechanical shed and the porch, they’re nowhere to be found. Knowing that Risen has pretty much stayed to the west wing, I pass by the girls, who all turn their heads, glaring without a word.
Keeping my drunk addled brain on track, I head up the stairs to check in his rooms where the door is partially ajar.
“Hello?” I call in, receiving no response. Walking through, both the room and the sitting area are devoid of him and his friend, Trevor. I’m totally surprised, though. Both rooms are neat and clean; almost regimented in the way things are lined up on the counter. I had an expectation of things tossed across the chair, spilling onto the floor, and stains on the sinks with man mess everywhere. Instead, I find it neat and tidy. Not my first thing to be surprised about when it comes to Risen Mason, but certainly a shock.
Partially closing the door back up, I head to the ground floor. The doors to the libraries are open, but devoid as well. Heading back toward the track, I must have just missed him somewhere along the way. That’s when I hear it. Deep rumbling voices.
Why am I hearing them there? He wouldn’t do that, would he? I mean, honestly, he wasn’t given any explicit or direct instructions to avoid that room, but you’d think he’d notice it’s not a place that he’d be invited to check out. Quickening my pace, I start off toward their droning tones with a renewed fire in my purpose.
With the door slightly ajar, I push it open and stop dead. Lying on the floor, surrounded by books are Risen and his buddy. All the nice words I was going to recite to him have escaped. Stirred up by the hurt and pain that resides inside me now, I almost scream.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” The shocked looks remind me that I’ve rushed in like a banshee on a mission, but I don’t give a shit. He has no business here.
“Doll, we’re—”
Grabbing a book off the floor that houses the most intimate parts of our family, I lose it. “Don’t call me that! I told you, you haven’t earned that privilege.” I’m over the top right now with rage, finding him in my father’s study. I’m fuming.
“I see what you’re doing, I’m not blind! This is my father’s room. My. Dead. Father! Is it bad enough you’re here taking over everything? Eating our food, taking in our hospitality, and now I find you looking at personal things that don’t concern you.”
The look of shock on his face totally shows the new lines I’ve just crossed in spades. Like a whirling dervish, I spin. Picking up untold treasures of my broken family before settling them into boxes that lay in partial completion. I’m seething. Moving from one to another, and another, until I must look like a hoarding queen. I clutch mementos to my chest, crying. I’m completely broken. I’d made a promise to myself that there’d be no more tears, and nothing would break me, but this is an unusual circumstance.
As they stream in rivulets down my cheeks, staining my makeup, I continue cleaning the space. As both Risen and Trevor gather up books and their half drank beers to leave me in my state of insanity, I glower at them both. “This isn’t over.”
Hearing his beer slam down on the credenza, Risen stomps across the room. “Over? Is this what you think this is? Do you think anything that’s happened constitutes over? Do you think I’d leave you to have another fucking breakdown, Miss Crown?”
“Oh, this is so going to go wrong,” Trevor moans.
“Fuck off, Trev. If you honestly think I can keep this pretence up…”
I turn with my arms full of various knickknacks to see a look I know well--confrontation, and it’s staring me down. Risen takes two large steps, stopping short of my personal, very emotional space, to stare me down.
“Miss Crown, or whatever it is you wish me to call you. I’ve had just about enough. I’ve been nice, fucking nicer than you’ve deserved. I’ve avoided you out of courtesy as it’s your house, and today was a very enlightening time with you. But I’m here, and while you obviously haven’t dealt with the loss of your family, your friends have given you all the necessary space to deal with it. They’ve avoided the eggshells you walk along, and they’ve tried their best to do whatever it is they can to have you come out the other side the same. But this is bullshit.”
Rising off the floor, I open my mouth in protest, but he presses a finger to my lips. “I’m done. I can’t keep lying to myself and you shouldn’t either. You’re falling to pieces, China,” Dragging a finger down the tears that still flow across my face, Risen brushes the edge of my chin with a soft move that’s not lost on my addled thoughts.
Stepping even closer, I feel his breath on my face. “Stop trying to be something you’re not.” Taking the few things out of my grip and setting them down gently on a box, he rises to his fully gorgeous, and completely fantastic self.
“Let it go, China. They’re not coming back.”
Rattled by his response, I’m afraid, confused, disappointed, and shocked that he’s seeing what is clearly wrong.
“It’s not your job to tell me what to do, Officer.” It comes out on a whisper.
“No,” he says, touching stray strands of hair. “But it’s yours. Let go, Doll. They’re gone.” It’s said softly, and dangerously sweet.
The words that escape are hiccupped, broken, and sad. “What if I don’t know how to let go?”
Stroking his hand down, fanning it along my jawline, he captures my chin in his palm. “I’m here if you need me.” For some reason that I can’t explain, I find major comfort in that. Whether it’s that the officer is someone who sees more of me than anyone else has, or that he’s exposing a flaw, Risen has seen the real me.