Page 49 of Dash

Her lips thin and she looks away from me. “Did you kiss her?”

“Yes,” I whisper. I can’t lie to her. Not this time. I’ve lied to her before and it almost cost me everything.

“Dash…” she whispers as she drops her head. She shakes her head as she stares down at the ground.

“I’m sorry,” I say, walking up to her once again. I place my hands on her face and lift it so she has to look at me. “What I did was a mistake. And I’m here to make it right. I love you.” The words fly out of my mouth without thought.

Her eyes narrow at my confession, and she places her hands flat on my chest and shoves me backward. “Don’t you dare say that to me!” she screams. “You think you can confess to kissing her and then just tell me that you love me?” she asks in disbelief.

Hurt. Pain. Rejection. Is what makes me respond the way I do. “You’re the one who broke up with me. You’re the one who left me. I was doing what I was told to do,” I yell back. “You were the one who ran when shit got difficult. Don’t make me sound like the bad guy.”

“The bad guy? You are the bad guy. You kissed your ex. The same ex who is still in love with you.”

I stand tall as I look down at her, furious at what she is saying. “She was the one naked and trying to fuck me. And I thought about it. I had every opportunity to fucking do it.” Her eyes start to water, and she swallows. “I did kiss her. I could have lied to you about that. I could have not come over here at all. Hell, you look pretty drunk yourself. Dressed like a slut. How do I know that you didn’t fuck some random stranger tonight?” She gasps. “What?” I snap. “It’s not that hard to believe. You’ve done it before,” I shout, fisting my hands down by my side.

She opens her mouth to speak but closes it quickly. Her body slightly shakes and tears roll down her face. She wraps her arms around herself.

I spin around, giving her my back—not wanting to see the pain that I just caused her. But it’s not fair to make me out to be the bad guy. Kissing Valerie was wrong, I admit that, but she had dumped me. I stopped Valerie when my body wanted her. Don’t I deserve something for that?

“Dash?” Her voice shakes.

“Don’t worry about it,” I sigh, not turning back around to look at her. “You were right to walk away.” And with that, I walk down the darkened walkway and jump on my bike. I don’t even bother to look up at her. Her rejection hurt too much. I told her that I loved her, and she did nothing. She said nothing. She doesn’t love me. Not the way I love her. And in all honesty, I should have never come over here.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

TABATHA

I slam my front door and lean back against it as I hear his bike speeding out of the neighborhood. I place my head in my hands and slide down the door until I sit on the floor. My head pounds. My body is sluggish. What hurts the most is that he was right. After I had a few shots, I loosened up. Jackie and I danced with random men. And it felt good. I allowed them to place their hands on my ass and spin me around the dance floor. I hated the fact that Dash was with Valerie doing God knows what, and I was feeling sorry for myself. I had made a decision, and I needed to grow up and move on. Then he shows up here. He loves me? I didn’t even let the words sink in before I went off on him. How could he love me? How could he just have been with her if he truly loved me?

I cry harder. I love him, too, but couldn’t say it. What would he have done if I had said that I loved him? He would walk all over me. I don’t want that type of relationship. I deserve better. I don’t care what he says about me; his racing career will always come first. By throwing that party, he proved that. My father will tell him to jump and he will always ask ‘how high’?

But another part of me feels like I should have told him that I loved him. That I hated knowing that he was with her. I was scared and jealous. I’m only trying to protect myself.

I jump when a knock sounds on my door. Spinning around, I open the door, ready and willing to do the apologizing this time.

My heart pounds in my chest when I come face to face with Rodger. “What are you doing here?” My words slur from the alcohol and the anxiety I feel that he’s at my front door. His lips lift at the corners in an attempt not to smile. He then walks right past me; he ignores my question and enters the house. My house.

I close the door and turn to face him. His eyes look over my reddened skin from all the drinking and the smeared makeup from crying over Dash. I see his eyes harden. Reaching out, he wraps his hand around my throat. I try to scream, but nothing is coming out as he slams my back into the door. “Stop being a little bitch,” he says calmly as I frantically try to pull his hand away from my throat.

I silently plead with him to let go before I lose consciousness. My vision is starting to fade and my legs are getting weak.

He sighs heavily and releases me. My already buckled legs can’t hold me up and I drop to the floor. Gasping for breath, I rub my sore neck.

He stands quietly and calmly in front of me as if he wasn’t just trying to kill me.

“Are you done?” he asks keeping his voice calm. I look up at him with tears running down my face, and I realize just how pathetic I must look. This is how he prefers his women. Kneeling before him.

He places his hands in the front pocket of his pants, and he stares down at me, waiting for an answer.

I swallow and it causes me to flinch from the pain. “Why are you here?” I ask quietly. My voice is scratchy and unfamiliar.

He frowns. But doesn’t offer me an answer. “Come on,” he says bending down and taking my hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He jerks me to stand, and I fumble to get my balance.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” I try to shout, but it sounds more like a squeal.

“You’re coming home with me,” he says with a smile. Have I lost my mind? Did I trip and fall, causing a head injury of some sort?

“I will not!” I pull my hand out of his.

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