Page 105 of Contention

“I miss you,” Charlie says expectantly.

“I miss you so much.” Kara can’t even taste the words as they leave her mouth.

The line goes dead with finality and Kara sags, like a puppet with her strings cut.

Ignoring the horrified look that Nick is giving her, ignoring the humiliation building in her chest, Kara makes sure her clothes are properly straightened before she gathers her shoes, getting ready to escape. She can’t deal with anyone right now. She feels like drowning herself in the bathtub.

Maybe she will.

“Kara, what the hell just happened?” Nick follows her out of the bathroom, eyes wide.

“None of your damn business, that’s what,” she hisses furiously, feeling her face flush.

That was embarrassing. Just like when she was a girl and Charlie went off at her in front of whatever friend had come home with her from school that day. They usually never came back to her place again. Sometimes they never spoke to her again, so horrified by the reality of her home life.

Kara tries to leave, but Nick grabs her in his arms, looking down at her with confused eyes. “Let me go,” Kara says as she tries to squirm away.

“Stop.” He says it calmly, studying her. “Was that…was that really your father? Kara, do you…do you need help?”

She cackles coldly. Is she going insane? It sure feels like it. “Do I need help? Oh, are you offering? I needed help twenty years ago, it’s a little too late now.”

Nick’s face goes emotionless. “You don’t need to brush me off. I know what it’s like to grow up in a rough home.”

Is he serious? He must be kidding, absolutely kidding. “Shut your ridiculous Trust Fund Baby mouth,” Kara says nastily, shoving him away from her. “Don’t try to pretend you understand anything about me or how I grew up. I come from a seriouslyfucked uphome. You havenoidea.”

He scowls at her, fingers flexing. Nick’s head tilts slightly, giving him a dangerous edge. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

This is rich, coming from him. Kara sneers, feeling ugly, all her awful emotions just lashing out inside of her. “Well. Are you going to tell me about youroh so sadpast or are you going to keep it bottled up, as always?”

Nick’s face remains stony, silent like a grave.

Grinning like a monster, Kara says, “I’d thought that would be the case. Poor Nick. What a troubled boy you must be. You want to use and abuse everyone else, but God forbid you let anyone else see inside of you. You are just…fantastic, you know that?Fuck.”

He’s watching her carefully, missing nothing. He’s listening to her tone of voice, watching the emotions flitting over her face. “What is this?” Nick gestures between himself and Kara. “What sick little game are you playing? I’m beginning to think this whole affair has never ever been about me. It’s abouthim.”

Somehow, it hits close to home and Kara stumbles on her way to the door. How does he always see through her so quickly?

Kara puts up her own defensive wall in response. “Do you even care if that’s the reason? Really? Maybe I get off on the fact that you are older, meaner, and a have bit of violence in you that reminds me of him. I’m a motherfucking whore, you’ve always thought that about me from the moment you first saw me, walking down that street in the middle of the night. If that scares you, you’re welcome to fuck off. Just. Like. Everyone. Else.”

That handsome, strong jawline of his tenses precariously. Kara can’t tell if she’s hurt him, disturbed him, or surprised him. She doesn’t frankly give a care. His rusty, raspy voice still makes her core heat as he says, “If you’re trying to scare me away, it’s not working.” His pupils dilate slightly. “You’ve always been more than a whore to me.”

It should make her feel better. Yet, it doesn’t.

“Is that so? Well, this is it,” Kara says hoarsely, gesturing to herself. “This is me. You’ve seen it all now, yeah? He made me into this…thisthing. This bag of flesh and bone and rage. Ibrokea long time ago. Do you still want to associate with trash like me, rich boy?”

His eyes are strangely dark as he observes her. “Maybe that’s what I like about you. The darkest parts of you are what I want.”

That strikes a chord in Kara’s chest and she stares at him, her heart pounding. She thinks of all sorts of rebuttals, but nothing comes to mind. Instead, she grabs her things and walks out the door, shaking with emotion, yet feeling numb.

That night, Gale calls.

“I’m sorry to hear about the case, friend. It isn’t your fault.” Gale sounds calm, cozy. Supportive. If only Kara felt open to such things. Instead, she feels like drugs and razorblades. “Derrick should have checked out your client’s background much better. The jury can be fickle…any doubt makes them back away from prosecuting. I hope you’re not too upset.”

Rubbing her face, Kara scowls. She considers telling Gale that her new partner is part of Kara’s current woes, that he’s the one that did a shady dealing behind closed doors with the judge, getting his secondary case closed. “I’m sort of in an awful mood, Gale. Can we talk tomorrow?”

Kara has more than a failed case weighing heavily on her chest. Suffocating her. Crushing her.

“Yes, I understand. I just worry about you. It can be hard for a young woman to succeed without good support behind her.”

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