Page 58 of Unhinged

“No. I can’t do this anymore with you.” Tears drip down her face, and again she mumbles, “You brought Finn back to me. I’m beyond grateful to you, but I’ll do anything to keep our marriage and my sacred vow to Finn. I love him. I won’t lose him again.”

Rubbing my jaw amid my damn tears, I say, “But I’m expendable. To everyone.”

“No. You’re fucked up, Greg. You need to figure out your life and find love somewhere else. I don’t want to live my life, constantly fighting you off but pretending it’s okay.”

I nod. “You’re right. I’m an asshole, and I’m sorry. You won’t have to worry about me coming between you and Wilder again. I’m so sorry, Hadley.”

I sigh, utterly ashamed of myself and hating what I’ve done to our friendship and to my integrity. Though I suppose I didn’t have much.

“Bye, Hadley. Have a great life. I’m not being a douche. I mean that,” I sob but catch my breath and try to get ahold of my damn self.

As I go out the door, she asks, “A great life? What are you doing?”

I ignore her as I wipe my nose on my wrist, and I don’t look back.

I’ll never look back.

Chapter 11

After I confessed to Hadley, my worldview shifted. She’s absolutely right. She’s not mine and never will be. Her daughter isn’t mine, which should be a relief considering my genetics. I’ve been unable to let her go, but that night did it for me. It was the non-fucking wake-up call I needed to hear. I’ve been trying to fit a square peg into a round hole, as I accused her of doing with Dash. I know I’m not normal and will never be.

Returning to the bar, I ignore Milt’s dirty looks. Though any of them are grimy. Candi watches me like she knows something I don’t. Hell, she probably does since I don’t know shit.

I’m dazed and shaky as I grab an empty glass from the bar, asking Cephus if he wants a refill. Well, that’s a dumb question. I’m positive his liver marinates in Pabst. But as I fill the glass, my hand shakes so much I keep starting and stopping the tap, creating more foam. Now he’ll whine all night.

What in the hell did I do with Simone? At the beginning of her little dance routine, I stormed into the kitchen to tell Amos to order her to knock it off, but he wasn’t there. I had no other choice than to watch her. But seeing her hands buried in her hair before she dropped to her knees with her tits bouncing, I felt like I was going to explode. I was so pissed off and turned on because she pissed me off and turned me on. And over Finn Wilder’s damn sister. She’s not even that… Fuck, she’s smoking hot. I hate that.

If Garrison was going for a third song, I would’ve needed another kind of outlet and headed for her car to jack off over the hood. No way will I do that in any restroom here since Misty quit, and no one has picked up the baton. I even piss out back. Unfortunately, I’ve run into Candi howling like a yodeler in a needle factory while riding the face of one of our beer distributors, a waif of a woman named Cee Cee. Awkward shit.

Seeing Simone go into the kitchen, I figured she went to the restroom. When she didn’t return within a reasonable time, I assumed she started cleaning it or fell in. I hesitated for a second since the dickweed Amos had earlier warned me to leave her alone. Oh, hell no. Not when she sets my mind and body on fire like dousing me with gasoline or an STD. So, not a good burn.

In the kitchen, I heard yelling and banging from the restroom. Having lived with a stubborn door at my last apartment for a few years, I know a thing or two about opening them. Putting my back against it, I kicked, sending it swinging and Simone flying. At least, that’s safe to assume with all of her squawking. I then stood off to the side, preparing for battle. But when she ran into me and looked up, I nearly forgot why I’m so mad at her. Simone infuriates and intoxicates. There’s no in-between or escape.

And then that damn mouth of hers. As soon as she started arguing and trying to leave, I got hard. I should forever hate Simone, yet no matter what happened in her bedroom or her blabbing to my mother, I don’t hate her. Oh, I’m goddamn furious, but she was there for me when others weren’t, and I didn’t have to ask. Though she made me grovel, she knew I needed help with Birdy and was happy to do it. When Morgan accosted us at the diner and gym, Garrison threw herself into the role of my girlfriend, defending the hell out of me. Plus, her grabbing my dick made me see her in a whole new light.

And then the night in her bedroom, I was about to give her something I had not given another woman: my full consent. I can’t even say I gave that to Shasta because after I fucked her ass, she handcuffed me to the bed and laughed when I flipped out.

I want to trust Simone again because the truth is I miss our fucked-up…whatever it was we had. But I’ll never tell her that.

Forcing her into the storage room wasn’t a shining moment of my life. When I put her down and saw her up close, especially with those freckles and her open shirt, I grew harder until she dropped the bomb of screwing twenty-three guys. What the hell do I say to that? Would I be on my twenty-third woman by now if I were normal?

Fuck. Still… Simone Garrison is one chick I can’t shake, and I’m constantly at war with that. I didn’t plan to jerk off in front of her, let alone on her tits, but when she said it was a joke, it shocked and hurt me until I saw the look in her eyes. She wanted me and not to fill in a blank. It was the same look I saw in her bedroom. Raw, authentic, and hot.

As I busy myself with the mundane behind the bar, I finally glance out at the area used for dancing, seeing a few drunks swaying to a different beat than playing. Beyond that is the poolroom, where Monty turns into Bon Jovi, living on a prayer for believing he can beat me. I then swing my gaze to the tables, where I watch Simone tying her apron and talking to some douche nozzle with Candi. Garrison dances in place and rubs her legs together as she talks. She looks like a cricket but damn, I want to be between her thighs, feeding her pussy my jizz. That’s so twisted because I can’t do that. Not with my inherited defect. Just ask my dead sister.

And Birdy. She can’t be mine. And I say that for her health.

Simone laughs with Candi, but she looks distracted and constantly tucks hair behind her ear as she tilts her head from side to side. I hate to admit it, but it’s cute as hell. That irritates me.

“Rodwell, are you on vacation?” Unfortunately, looking away from Garrison, I see Roy banging his glass on the counter. I frown at him and take his glass, getting his usual Miller. He laughs. “Did you give it to her good?”

As I turn around, I ask, “Who?”

“That broad with the big tits you were nailing in the hall.”

Several others laugh, and I glance at Milt, who makes a face. Sometimes I forget he’s a preacher’s kid without the obligatory rebellious streak. Many things offend him, mainly soap and toothpaste.

I glare at Roy as I hold his beer hostage. “You want to rephrase that?”

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