Page 43 of His Big Bad Stick

His face is strong. His jaw steel-cut. A scar or two that I don’t remember. Obviously wounds from playing hockey.

He definitely doesn’t look like the same Colver I knew.

He’s big and rugged… but… he’s got that same rattlesnake look in his eyes.

“Colver,” I whisper.

“Don’t give me any bullshit right now, Abrielle. I haven’t had any coffee yet. I don’t even know why I did what I did last night for you. Driving you up here. Carrying you to the couch. I slept on the fucking floor of my own cabin. All for what?”

“You tell me,” I blurt out.

Colver’s lip curls. He slowly shakes his head.

“What?” I call out. “Do you remember what you said to me?”

“When I was eighteen?” Colver asks. “People say a lot of things when they’re young and stupid. Now you show up like this? What am I supposed to do? Huh? The guy who gave you that ring… he hurt you, didn’t he? And you came running to me. Now what? I’m supposed to drive your ass back into the city and go after this guy? That’s what you want, right?”

I swallow hard.

Colver has always had a way of just saying things. Never slowly working toward a question or touching a subject with delicate care.

He just attacks. Pounces.

He doesn’t give a damn if the other person is upset.

“What are you going to do now, Abrielle? Cry? Stand there and cry? Huh? Over what?”

I touch the diamond ring on my finger.

I’m so sick and tired of it all.

I’m sick and tired of the fake smiles. Of the goodwill and appearances. I’m sick of the expensive champagne and the bright lights and the way I have to look a certain part and act a certain way.

I take a few deep breaths.

My chest heaves.

Colver starts to walk toward me.

“The worst part here is that if you pass out right now, I’m going to catch you,” he says. “Maybe that makes me the stupid one. And when I feel stupid, I feel cornered. And when I feel cornered, I get pissed off, kitten.”

My chin quivers.

I’m taken right back to more than one occasion of Colver entering the bedroom I had in his father’s house for that short while. And the way he’d walk up to me and just be… mean.

I’m an adult now.

A woman with something of a career. Something of a business. Some sort of talent.

On my own…?

Yes and no.

I should slap Colver across the face.

I should take his truck.

At the very least I should back up and not let him get so close…