Page 98 of Bona Fide

Determined to cut my dick off and feed it to me.

Resolution to pounding my face in until it caves while she watches me die in front of her. I'll take the latter so that she's the last fucking thing I see because I deserve it. I merit everything she's saying, and I’ve earned losing her in return—again.

“Come inside,” I coo gently. “And we’ll talk about—” She jerks away as my hand reaches out for her.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” she fumes, eyes constricting as another tear falls from one of her eyes and hits her cheek.

My whole soul is breaking in front of her, but it's not me I'm worried about making it out of this alive, it's her.

I’ve loved her for what seems to be forever. Fate couldn’t be so awful and cruel to put her into my life only to yank her away. Not when it knows that my demise will follow shortly afterward.

“Reagan,” I start again. “I never thought you’d end up working for me. I didn’t think we’d end up here. It was never to hurt you, I swear. You were the only one I could talk to freely without knowing who I was. And when I met you, I didn’t know how to make it stop. You were still there, talking to meand—”

"So, this is my fault?”

I violently shake my head. “No, absolutely not. It’s mine, I know that. I’m sorry, I just didn’t know how—”

“Don’t say another word to me,” she upbraids, wiping the tear that just fell. “We’re done. Don’t ever come near me again. If you—" Call me an asshole, but I yank her into my office and slam the door behind her.

We’re not doing this.

I’m not and can’t do this. She can be mad, livid, pissed, but we're not done. I won't accept that shit. People fuck up all the time, and she needs and will forgive me.

Reagan lurches away from me like I’m a disease and stumbles back a step. I guess I am one. I embedded myself into her body, mentally and physically, just to cause a bad reaction of loathing and sickness. The kind that you never forget and wish you could be rid of with every ounce of your being.

“You don’t seem to like to listen,” Reagan sneers. “I wasn’t looking to have a full-blown conversation about it.”

“Reagan,” I start, shoving my hands into my pockets so that I don’t have another urge to touch her. “Please believe me when I say that I never ever wanted to hurt you. I would cut every single one of my limbs off for you. Shit, I’d cut my dick off if I could take back everything to—”

“It wouldn’t make you any more useless than you are now, Lockwood. You were an absolute waste of time and energy on my part. And I was stupid enough to let you in. You’re married and look at what happened—” She points behind her to the door. “—my mother is in the hospital because your crazy bitch of a wife lit her fucking house on fire!”

“I know, I’m—”

“What? Working on it? Here’s a fucking thought—” She takes a step in my direction, her body oozing every amount of hostility that I’m feeling towards myself. “—why don’t you get in a car, go pick her up, and drive off a fucking cliff with it. That way, you'll solve my problem. You...you're a fucking bastard, and you'd have to mean something to me for me to give a fuck about you being an obstacle in my life. I'm just tired of you showing up out of nowhere unannounced. I'm tired of how you think you have the right to ask things of me. And I am so fucking tired of you.

“I don’t want you anymore. I don’t want to look at you, feel you, hear you. You've been nothing but a good fuck, and that's about it. You made me come so hard, and I loved every single moment of it, but as far as a future…" She scoffs. "That shit is potently never going to happen. I hate your life, who you are, what you are. You can't satisfy what I need, and that's a—"

"A man that will submit to every little fucking thing you say?" I challenge back, unable to keep the anger from my own tone. "Because I never made it easy for you? You’re too chicken shit to open up to me because you're scared and—"

“There’s nothing to be scared of except what your wife has—”

“Stop calling her my fucking wife,” I snap, clutching the cloth inside my pockets. “We’ve been through this already. I’m not—”

“Don’t tell me you’re not married,” she seethes. “You are married, you fucking tool. That bitch holds your last name, and, honestly, you two deserve each other. You are both deceitful and—" I latch my hands on to her biceps and squeeze. Harder than I should.

Harder because she's breaking me down and cutting into too deeply, and I'm not sure how much longer I can hold on.

"You might be pissed off at me right now, Reagan, but I told you I'd give this hellhole of a life up for you. I will divorce that cunt right the fuck now, and I won't look back. I can't apologize for the shit I haven't done because there was no you. There was no other reason to—"

“Stop accusing me of being the reason for you not moving forward with what a normal person would do! You’re a grown-ass man, Wade. And you brought me into your little web of fucked up and crazy. And I’m—” She thrusts her hands down, hitting my forearms to release her. “—done.”

She whirls on her feet, striding for the door, but I follow her. Before she can open it, my palm blocks her escape, landing on the barrier that keeps her here with me. That keeps her from running away from me, where I have to chase her and beg for forgiveness. When she leaves this room, it'll be harder to get her alone. It'll be a fucking shitshow to get her to stay the fuck still and listen to me.

“I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but—”

“You don’t deserve me,” Reagan proclaims, still facing the door. “And I don’t deserve you. I want to figure this all out in my head and keep you out of it. I have more important things to do right now than deal with you and your kind of insanity.”

"I know," I concede. "I know you have a bunch of shit going on. With your mom...I know that you're hurt, and you don't want to be near me. But I love you, I would inflict everything on me if I could. I didn't mean for you to become collateral damage, and I tried to—"

“I’m not collateral damage,” she retorts softly. “I’m your worst nightmare.” She suddenly yanks open the door, her back hitting my chest to round it, and slams it shut behind her.

I know that she is. Always has been. Now I get to live through it in real time, real life, and in real shit.

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