Page 107 of Inflame

His face has a few bruises peeking through some type of cream he has smeared on his skin, and his eye looks like it has a broken blood vessel. I wish to add to the masterpiece. “Are you wearing makeup?” I ask with a huffed out laugh.

“Shut up,” he quickly says in a rush, as if I’m letting out some secret.

“You look like a clown.” I giggle. “Actually, clowns have better makeup technique.”

“Get out of here, Claire.”

“I’m done being silenced and emotionally abused by you, you narcissist!”

“Calm the hell down,” he growls, getting up from his seat at the table. “Are you following me?”

“And why would I do that, Ethan? Huh? What is it that you ever had to offer me that would make me want to crawl back to you? We are over. And I wouldn’t come back to you even if you begged. The sex wasn’t even worth it!”

“You need to calm down.”

My finger shakes as I wave it in front of his face. “Thanks for tossing me out of the apartment and throwing my belongings in storage, you asshole. Do you get off on this type of shit, you sick fuck?”

“Maybe I should go up to our room,” Deena says, starting to slide her chair back.

“Oh, you have a place here too, Ethan? How cute, you liar! What was I staying in? Your fuck pad?”

He hisses for me to stop making a scene and frowns at Deena who manages to flinch over my words. Of course he would own a luxury condo here and not even let me know.

“Found out you have a house too, you bastard.”

“This is getting out of hand, Claire,” he snarls into my face. He glances back to his business associates and mutters something to them. They are all dressed in formal suits and it makes me want to hit something.

“Why did you lie to me? Why did you hide all of your properties from me? And did the sheets even get a chance to cool before inviting your ex-wife in to warm them again? All those months of stringing me along, degrading me and treating me like trash, were just to win her back?” I watch as his nose twitches, and he reaches out toward me to try to silence my temper. He captures my wrists and squeezes so tightly that I wince. “I hate you.”

“How could you possibly think it wasn’t going to end like this? You were an—” He stops before saying “escort.”

“And you are an asshole.” I twist out of his grip, stumbling backwards. I turn to Deena as she rises to leave. “You can have him and his emotionally abusive behavior. Unlike you, I can walk away. I have zero ties and for that, I am thankful.”

Ethan turns back to his group and gives a weak apology. It comes out more like a snicker. I see red. He is treating me like a fool. I am so tired of his shit. I reach around him for whatever glass of beverage I can get my hands on and toss it directly into his face. Liquid splashes all over his face and down his designer clothes.

When he notices that Deena got some splatters too, he snarls. “You are a childish bitch.”

I throw the glass at his head, but he ducks in time for it to land on the table, clinking dishes from the force. It is childish but makes me feel good in the moment.

Why start a fire and not stay to watch it burn? I move to grab another drink and—

Arms bind around me, halting my action. I whirl around to see two men with the little Parkhouse security logos on their shirts.

“It’s about time,” Ethan says to the men.

“You are such a pussy!” I yell back.

“Ma’am, you are being asked to leave the premises or the Portland police will be called,” one says sternly.

I raise both my middle fingers to Ethan’s face but resist spitting. I don’t need to be fined right now or taken to court for assault. I can’t afford legal fees nor a lawyer.

“I’ll find my way out,” I snap at one of the guards.

“You will be escorted out of this building,” the other dictates.

As the men lift me up by my elbows to get me to move, I kick up my feet and plow them right into Ethan’s crotch. “Oops, my bad.” Several dishes hit the floor, and I no longer have any sympathy for anyone at the table. Anyone associating with Ethan Maxwell can’t be stellar citizens. He only fraternizes with those like him.

“Word of advice, do not come back,” the one security guard says into my ear. “Ever.”

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