Page 37 of Violent Hearts

"You were writing? Right there? How could you not have noticed?!"

I didn't mean to raise my voice at her again, but she leaves me no other choice.

How could she have been so careless? And what kind of excuse is this?

"You were right there!" I yell at her, pointing toward the armchair. "How could you not notice the fire just a few feet away from you?"

"Well, first of all, it's more than just a few feet away," she retorts, waving her arms in a wild gesture. "This is a damn hall. Who the hell has a living room shaped like this! It's not like I was sitting right next to the kitchen, it's all the way ov-"

"I don't want to hear this," I cut her off. "This is ridiculous."

She glares at me, biting her lower lip as if she was stopping herself from saying something stupid, something that would infuriate me even further.

I leave her side and walk back to the kitchen to inspect the damage now that the smoke has cleared and the fire alarm is no longer ringing in my ears.

It's not as bad as I expected. From what I can tell, she hadn't done much more than start boiling some water in a giant pot, probably to cook pasta. The pasta is still lying right next to the stove, though it’s been turned into a batch of charcoal-black sticks. It's hard to tell what else she had planned to make because the area around the stove is pretty messy and black.

"I really am sorry."

Her voice, coming from behind me, sounds small.

"I know you're going to punish me for this."

I turn around to look at her and am met with a face that makes my heart ache. It pains me to think that she expects me to punish her for something like this. She does deserve punishment for a lot of things, but definitely not for this.

"Don't be ridiculous. It was an accident," I say. "Things like this happen, even though I'm still not quite clear how it did."

She presses her lips together and crosses her arms as if to embrace herself.

"I was distracted."

"I shall say!"

Her expression changes to a frown. "You don't understand! It's... difficult, when you're writing."

"You're right, I don't understand. And I don't think I need to - just don't let it happen again."

She's still frowning at me, sadness in her eyes, but she nods reluctantly. "Yeah."

"You know I don't like that response," I tell her. "Besides you really need to-"

"I get it, okay?!"

Her sudden change in temper surprises me, but only for a moment before my bewilderment changes to anger. No one, absolutely no one, yells at me like that, and especially not her.

She inhales audibly when I approach her, but she doesn't try to escape when I reach for her arm. I yank her close and then grab her damn ponytail and pull on it, forcing her head back into her neck.

She grimaces with pain. "So much for not punishing me."

"This is not for almost burning my place down, Button," I hiss at her. "This is for raising your voice to me."

Her eyes flicker, but she doesn't say a word.

"Never speak to me like that again, do you understand?"

Our eyes are locked onto each other as I await her response. She knows what I want to hear, but it's still hard for her to say it. Understandably.

"Yes, Sir."

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