Page 178 of Overcast

The look of acceptance dawns her features, and she touches my chest, peering up at me like she used to before everything went down with Bianca.

She tilts herself on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek gently, settling herself back to her full height but doesn’t erase any space between us.

“What do you want from me, Stormi?”

“Nothing,” she replies. “When you’re done...I’ll make you something to eat.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know...” She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “Have you eaten today?” Sort of, Mills brought me a sandwich earlier, but my stomach begins to gurgle at the mention of food all of a sudden.

Except I feel as though this sweetness that she’s displaying is a load of bullshit.

“And if I have?” My eyes narrow in on her, but she doesn’t falter or stray away. In fact, she hits me head-on with that innocent act.

“Then...okay.” She lifts her shoulders. “I was just trying to be—” My hands firmly grip her biceps, and I guide her backward until her back hits the wood siding of the cabin.

“Listen here, sweetheart,” I growl, lowering my head inches from her face. “This kindness crap isn’t going to make me stop. It isn’t going to make me change my mind. You hate what I do, I got it. However, I’m not going to change for anyone. Got me?”

“I wasn’t—” My hand slams into the siding next to her ear in frustration because I’m having conflicted feelings about if she should have a say.

If I should just go inside and watch her make me something in my kitchen while I fucking fantasize about shit, that’ll never happen. She makes me want to shift plans that’ll fit her morals, and that’s not who I am. It’s not what I do.

“You make everything hard, Stormi,” I carp. “Everything. Stop staring at me like I’m going to revision shit that meets your standards. I’m not your villain that turns into the prince. Mills calls you Cinderella, I’m not Prince Whomever-The-Fuck. You can’t mold me into something you—”

“I’m not molding you, asshole,” she argues. “I was trying to be nice.”

“I don’t want you to be nice to me.”

“Well, too fucking bad, that’s who I am.”

“And since when do you swear so much?”

“Since I decided that I wasn’t going to be anyone’s bitch anymore,” she upbraids before her small hands locate my chest, giving it a shove. It doesn’t do shit but make me loom closer.

“You were never anyone’s bitch, baby,” I mutter, inhaling my shampoo. I bought her some, it smelled like flowers that I thought she’d like. However, discovering her wanting to lather herself in my shit has my cock responding to the thought.

“Not anymore,” she answers. “And if you’re not hungry, so be it.”

“I”m going to go kill that bitch now," I claim. “And then that’s it. We’ll be back to avoiding each other.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“It’s what I know.”

“Fine. Go butcher that woman and come back to see how I respond.” My body presses hers deeper into the treated wood, showing her exactly how I’m reciprocating.

“See you later then, sweetheart.” I move, forcing myself to pry away from her and back towards the blackness to where I belong.

Stormi is too bright.

I’m too fucked up.

She thinks she placed something in my head that’s not going to get rid of Bianca, but she’s so fucking wrong it’s not even funny. I’ve been waiting to get my hands on that bitch for weeks.

“I’ll be waiting,” Stormi calls out behind me.

No, you won’t.

You’ll think about it.

You’ll be disgusted by it.

You’ll never be able to accept that taking out the bad only fuels the shit I’ve gone through.

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