Page 47 of Fire for Effect

“What the fuck are you talking about, Psycho?”

“There’s no future for us, Griff. There never will be.” She tried to push away more but I wasn't going to let that happen.

I wasn’t going to let her do this. Not now. This was a second chance, and she needed to grab it by the horns the way I did. She needed to hold on for dear life. She was my lifeline. Why didn’t she understand that I could be hers, too?

We were still connected, and I wasn’t going to lose my advantage. Not until she started making sense.

“I wanted us to be friends.” Her hands balled up my shirt, and her knuckles turned white. “Why couldn’t we be friends. Why? We avoided this once, why make the same mistake again?”

“It wasn’t a mistake, and it isn’t now.” I cupped her cheeks in my hand, forcing her to look at me. “I want this. So do you. Why are you fighting this so hard? Tell me?” I reined in my anger, shutting my eyes, just for a second, so I could compose myself, then asked again, slower this time, “Tell me, baby. Make me understand.”

“You’re Kai Winchester Griffith,” she chuckled, and it was the saddest sound I had ever heard. She made me hate my own name. “Your father is the Director of the CIA, your mom is the biggest socialite in New York City, and your ex-wife is a California ranching heiress. You’ll be a senator, or hell, president, one day.”

She was starting to sound like my mother, and I didn’t appreciate it. If she was trying to make me flacid, talking about my mother, and my ex, was a good way to do it.

“And I will always be… this.” Her hands flopped around her sides, gesturing to the trailer around us. “This might be the best I get. If I’m really good, and really hard working, I’ll get myself a small one-bedroom house in the middle of nowhere. I’ll get to ride my bike in the summer and read my books in the winter. But that’s the best I will ever do.”

“Bullshit.” Her self-doubt was the biggest malarkey I had ever heard, and I knew who to blame for it. Her mother. The woman didn’t deserve the damn title. Neither did mine but, shit, hers really took the cake.

“It’s the truth.” She wiped the flood of tears away again, and I couldn’t help but think that she looked beautiful.

I loved the emotions on her face, even the tragic ones. Because when Taz Guerro laughed, cried, smiled, or smirked, you knew it meant something. It was real. Nothing about her was contrived or cultivated. Every flick of those expressive brows was genuine, and soul-deep.

“You and I met in the Army, where we were the same rank, and had the same housing allowance.” She wrapped her arms around her abdomen, crossing them beneath her breasts, trying to pry more distance between us. “But out here? In the civilian world? We’re lightyears apart.”

I wrapped her in my embrace, pulling her in until her arms were sandwiched between us. She could erect a barrier, but she wasn’t allowed to pull away. Not this time.

I was grappling for the right thing to say. I needed time. I needed to prove her wrong.

Hell, I was good at proving her wrong. I loved fighting her and coming out a winner. It was one of my favorite pastimes.

Another thick tear crawled down her cheek, and I leaned down, darting out my tongue to taste the salt-flavored sorrow. When another fell on the other side, I did the same, and I laughed, when her faced scrunched, like she was disgusted and perplexed.

“I licked it,” I said, “now your hurt is mine.”

Her face fell, her head dipping forward, before she let out a small laugh.

“I’m not taking any more of your whining, Psycho,” I said, quietly, placing my lips on her forehead. “I know you’re in pain, and I get it. I’ve got pain too. But that has nothing to do with us.”

“You’re wrong.”

“No. You’re wrong.”

“No. You’re wrong.” She mocked.

“Brat.”

“Prick.”

“Bitch.”

“Twat.”

I kissed her, just to shut her up. She kissed me back, and that was a start. When I pulled away, her arms had gone limp at her side, her body surrendering to this pull between us.

“I’m going to take you to bed, and when I wake up, you’re still going to be there, got it?” I loved her glassy eyes on me.

She looked vulnerable, and free. Like that big brain of hers was quiet for just a minute. Orgasms had made her walls come down, and she was sweeter than she had been in a long time.

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