Page 176 of The Catalyst

I divert the subject, much like he has been doing. “You’re not even reacting. I just told you that you’re the father and…nothing.”

“Why would I react? I already knew it was a possibility. Reacting to that news would be like acting shocked when someone dies after you shot them. The probability is too high to be shocked, angry, or excited.” His eyes narrow, a tick rising in his jaw. “You only wanted me to react so you could have another reason to be mad at me. I fucked up, baby, and you’re trying so hard to be mad at me like I screwed your best friend or something.”

With that, the ripcord that has barely been containing my anger, rage, and heartache over how he betrayed me comes pouring out of me. “For all I know, you could’ve, except you’re not her type. The problem is instead of coming to me with an explanation for your shitty behavior, you expected a booty call while drunk off your ass!” I’m so livid that the hunger I felt when I arrived has vanished, and I imagine ripping off those tattoos all over his flesh until he bleeds out on the floor. I doubt even the fiery pits of hell could rival the flames in my eyes. My gaze must truly burn.

“That’s not what happened,” he retorts, completely unfazed.

I’m going to strangle him. “Is that so, Mr.I-Just-Really-Wanted-To-See-You?”

The bridge of his nose scrunches up. “Don’t make assumptions about my motives. If I said I wanted to see you, that’s why I was there. Nothing more, nothing less.”

My eyes turn to flaming slits as I slam my fist on the table. “You’ve just reinforced my point. Instead of giving whatever your shitty excuse is for treating me like the gum on the bottom of your shoe, you latched onto a separate issue. That’s it. I’m leaving.” I snatch my wallet off the table, but before I can escape the booth, his fingers latch around my wrist and keep me from exiting.

“No,” he growls, and I try to pull free of his grasp, but it tightens, barely loose enough not to leave a bruise but not relaxed enough to let me squeeze out of the hold.

“Maybe you’ve forgotten because of how long it’s been since we’ve seen each other, but here’s your refresher…” I lean into him so only he can hear me in this restaurant. “I. Don’t. Listen. To you.”

“You do if you have no other fucking choice, crazy girl. You only have two options. You sit your fine ass down and listen to me, or I force you to your knees right here in the middle of this restaurant. Trust me when I say you want to take the first option. If I have you on your knees, I’ll have you gagging on my cock for everyone to see, and you’llstillhave to hear what I have to say. Either way, you’re not leaving.” His growl rumbles against my ear, and his next words obliterate my panties. “Do you really want sweet, old Dolly to see how much of a dirty slut you are? Don’t test me, baby.”

My body shudders, and I despise the reaction from the way he chuckles against my ear. He knows how he affects me and that it hasn’t changed one bit.

“You must really want a taste. I’m giving you five seconds. If you haven’t parked your ass by then, your decision will be madeby me.” He pins my wrist to the table even as I try to pull it free of his grasp to no avail. “Five.”

I just want to leave and crawl back into my solitude. It’s better than this humiliation.

“Four.”

He can fuck right off.

“Three.”

I glare at him. I am by far the most stubborn person I’ve ever known, even though he is a close second. “Two,” I taunt.

His jaw ticks, and his icy blues darken with anticipation and anger. “One.”

It sinks in that he’s serious when he tugs on my wrist to pull me out of the booth, and I panic. “Fine, you fucking psycho.” I sure as hell don’t want anyone in my favorite Waffle House location to see me like that. I’d never be able to show my face here again. Poor Dolly might actually have a heart attack.

He watches me for a moment, checking to see if I’ll run for it if he lets me go before he releases my arm. There’s redness along the joint, but it won’t actually bruise. I rub it to get out the stiffness before glaring daggers at him. “You’re off to a splendid start, Oliver.” I stretch out my fingers and avoid his gaze that’s burning a hole in my temple.

I’ve always made it clear how pissed I was at him by what I call him. Ollie, Oliver, or asshole. It’s only ever one of the three.

Go ahead and start apologizing, dickhead.However, he doesn’t do such a thing. No, that would be too normal for him.

“You’re eighteen.”

My head snaps around at the two words, and I scoff. “Duh. So what?”

“I’m ten years older than you, Beth.”

Okaaaay?“I think I’m still missing your point. This is all stuff I already knew.” I’ve never been put off by how much older he is than me, and as far as I knew, neither was he.

He doesn’t question how I would know how old he is even though he never told me.

Instead, he says, “I had no idea how young you were until the doctor’s appointment.” The way his face morphs when he saysyoungmakes me sick, like he thinks he had sex with a literal child.

My lip starts to tremble, but I bite it to stop the action. I didn’t think Oliver could hurt me more than he already had, but I was wrong because he just did.

“Got it. Anything else?”

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