Ron’s change began in subtle ways. As I healed, Ron withdrew more and more. He wasn’t touching me unless necessary, even then he pawned me off on Michelle most of the time. He sent Greg and Dave when I needed something brought to me. There was a crispness in the air. Like the weather before a winter storm hits. I can’t help but miss him. I don’t know why, but there is something about him that pulls me like a magnet. When Ron is in the room, I’m drawn to him, like the sun. No one has ever captured my attention that way before.

Yet another week of being ignored, of near-constant boredom went by and I made the decision to go against every instinct I had. I decide to confront him. I don’t know Ron well, but I have a feeling he never gives anything you won’t fight him for. My mind flashes to last night, something happened, something that needs to be addressed.

I woke up suddenly, startled. I sensed Ron before I saw him but when I looked at the chair beside the bed, it was empty. I propped myself up on the elbow of my good arm, and craned my neck, searching the darkened room for him. He was leaning against the closed bedroom door, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Is something wrong?” I asked, my voice soft, something in me not wanting to break the silence.

“Everything. Every fuckin’ thing has been wrong since I walked into that room and found you,” Ron growled, his voice deeper than normal.

“What do you mean?” I came to a full sitting position, the sheet covering me falling to my lap. I was wearing nothing but my usual sleep clothes, a thin tank top and panties, the cold air was a shock to my suddenly over-heated skin.

“What is it about you, Kella?” Ron uncrossed his arms and stalked toward me.

I wasn’t afraid of him hurting me, but something about the way he slowly approached me, the power he radiated, it made me feel nervous.

“I didn’t do anything. I’ve been in here. You took my phone.” I started to panic. Did something happen? Was he blaming me for something I knew nothing about?

He reached the side of the bed and ran a finger up my leg, starting at my knee and ending at my hip.

I gasped at the contact, but before I could speak again, he grabbed the back of my head, slamming his mouth against mine. I moaned in response, opening my mouth to him immediately.

He started to pull back and I raised my one working hand, grabbing his bicep, clinging to him. It was more than just wanting him to stay, I needed something to ground me, to remind me I was still on earth. His kisses are as powerful as heroin.

He jerked back and all but flung himself away from me. “This can’t happen again,” he hissed, storming out of the room, the door banging shut behind him.

As I sat there in a haze of confusion and arousal, I decided I had enough of this. It’s time to confront the infamous Ron Wolfe.

Ron clears his throat, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Are we going to talk about this?” I ask, motioning between us. He’s sitting in his leather recliner, reading the paper. At least he wants me to think he’s reading it, but he hasn’t turned the page in a good ten minutes. No one could possibly read that slow.

“What is there to talk about?” he replies gruffly, shooting me a glare. If I were a lesser woman, that alone would have sent me running.

I don’t give him a chance to realize what I’m planning to do when I move. Ignoring the pain in my shoulder, I jump to my feet and throw myself on his lap. I can’t straddle him like I want, my sling won’t allow for proper balance. His eyes widen with shock but he makes no move to push me off.

“You practically fucked me against the wall. We’ve been playing this game. you took care of me.” He tries to speak but I lay my finger over his lips. “You look at me the same way I look at you, when you bother to look at me at all. And there was last night …” I let my voice trail off but I give him no question with my stare. I never could back down, even when the odds were against me.

Sighing in frustration, Ron all but throws his newspaper that is crumpled between us on his end table. Giving me his full attention, he raises his gaze to meet my imploring one. Our faces are so close. I want him to kiss me again, to at least react. For him to just give me something.

“I think we could have something, or at least, maybe …” I feel my cheeks heat and my voice sounds so fucking pathetic. “I think it might be worth trying.” I feel like a child right now, begging for a toy she knows she can’t have.

“You want something I can’t give you.” Ron runs a hand through his hair, looking frustrated. “Something I can’t give anyone. In my life, things like this,” he nods between us, “are just liabilities. Someone just ends up hurt. Or dead.” His eyes are looking anywhere but at mine now.

“Ron …” I lean forward to kiss him but he grabs my good shoulder, keeps our faces close, but oh so far. Despite his resistance his touch his gentle. He does care, I can feel it in my bones.

He rests his forehead against mine for just a moment, closing his eyes. “I wish I could, sweetheart. I really wish I could.”

We stay like that for a moment, Ron in contemplative silence, my heart shattering into a million tiny pieces on his living room floor. Ron’s phone starts buzzing in his pocket, bringing the moment to an underwhelming halt. Carefully, he lifts me off his lap, and sets me on my feet. Standing, he digs his phone out of his pocket and answers it, walking toward his home office.

Humiliated, broken-hearted and fighting off tears, I frantically wipe at my face with my good hand. I’m such a fucking idiot. Did I really think he really cared about me? I took a bullet and it was his fault and he’s making sure I heal. That’s all it is. That’s all it ever will be. Figures my dumbass would read more into it.

I walk back toward my room in defeat, but I hear Ron’s voice carrying from inside his office and can’t help but to stop and listen.

“That’s fuckin’ amazing,” he says, sounding excited about something.

I lean closer to the door, trying to catch more of his conversation. He mumbles something else I don’t quite catch. I’m practically leaning on the door now, my ear pressed to it.

“Sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Lexi,” he says, and my heart clenches.

And now I know. He really is a cold-hearted bastard, he’s even gone back to her, or at least back to whatever they had going on.

I back away from the door, feeling like someone slapped me in the face and make my way back to my room.

I know what I need to do. I just need to finish healing and then I’m going to disappear again. I made it in this place, it can’t be that hard to move to another city and start over. I’m going to forget all about Ron Wolfe and that Lexi cunt.