Page 40 of Outcast
“All right.” He glanced at the clock with a frown. I took off for the lobby before he could comment on my early exit. “First thing in the morning, Em!”
I waved a hand to show I’d heard him. Ugh. Thelastthing I wanted to do was talk to my dad about the Forrester foreclosure. I’d have to think of a way to stall him. I’d promised Gray I’d do what I could to give them some time to figure out a solution. I couldn’t delay for much longer, though.
The foreclosure itself would take time to process. But it’d be so much easier on them if it never started.
I raised my fingernail back to my mouth as I walked into the lobby, nibbling. I’d just smooth out the ragged edge. The damage was already done, right?
I gave a cursory glance toward the tellers. “Night, Janine!”
“Have a good weekend,” she called back.
I noticed the sole customer at the counter too late.Dallas.
My stomach cramped, and I sped up, cutting through a seating arrangement of beige chairs. I knocked an issue ofTimemagazine to the floor. Damn it.
I backtracked to pick it up.
Dallas cut toward me with a big grin on his face. What the actual fuck?
“Emory, my man! Got big plans for tonight?”
I stared at him, my brain unable to compute that this man who’d put his hands on me, pushed me around, and might have done much worse was talking to me as if nothing had ever happened.
“If you’re still curious about,you know, we could take another drive. I just deposited my paycheck. I’ll even buy you dinner after.” He chuckled. “Assuming you make it worth my while.”
I dropped the magazine and turned for the door. “Don’t talk to me.”
“Ah, come on, that was a joke!” Dallas followed me. “I was just kidding around.”
I hit the glass door, flinging it open too hard, and stepped out onto the sidewalk.
Dallas caught my arm. “Dude, wait!”
I shook him off. “Don’t touch me. Don’t youevertouch me again.”
“Why are you so pissed?” he said. “It wasn’t a big deal. We got our wires crossed, that’s all. It was just a little misunderstanding.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. They’re uncrossed now. You stay away.”
His eyes grew hard. “You think you’re so goddamned special, huh? As if I can’t do better than you.” He leaned in. “I know your dirty secret, Em. You better watch out, or pretty Allison will know it too. Maybe the whole town.”
My blood drained so fast I grew light-headed.
“I’m not special,” I said through numb lips. “I’m nothing to you. Not worth the effort.”
“That’s fucking right,” he spit. “You’renothing.”
He walked away, back straight, head held high, while I shook where I stood. Weak. Cowardly.
Maybe I really was nothing.
Certainly, I wasn’t worth Gray’s time. Even if I was, it was a bad idea to start something. Why give Dallas ammunition for any rumors he might decide to spread?
I closed my eyes and took a breath. Then another as I made my way to my car. By the time I got home, I was a little steadier.
I let myself into my apartment, the warmth of color and texture instantly soothing me. My home was the one place I let my inner artist out.
My pale blue couch and mauve armchair draped with pastel green and yellow throw blankets. My mosaic coffee table with a wildflower design that I’d gotten from a talented artist who came through town. The many paintings on the wall—some mine, some I’d bought—a jumble of styles from expressionism to pop art.
