Page 26 of Touch Her and Die
Irritation swirled inside my gut. I could have at least gotten angry and avenged my sister. He was too quiet. My next instinct? Pick a fight. That always made me feel better.
“Well, they were shooting up my sister’s headstone. Do you know how many years it took me to pay for that? No. You don’t. And then you drugged me.”
He made sure I was in the car, touching me a little more than needed before he reached in and buckled me in place. I wasn’t running anywhere. I think that was established.
I wanted to be pissed off that I couldn’t do it for myself, but as I tried to reach for the belt, I realized how tired my body was. Was this all the drug?
“That’s the only reason you came back? To see if the tombstone was being destroyed?”
His words seemed subdued. I didn’t understand what I was seeing or hearing. His movements seemed slower as he stood up and closed my door, not waiting for a response. It was impossible not to appreciate his form as he walked around the car. The thing was, I watched him closely, and noticed everything about him was out of place.
There was blood splattered on his shirt. And the shirt? It was a t-shirt, not anything else. Not a suit. No white button down. Nothing about my Parks looked like the man I’d been fucking for the last few weeks.
His hair was even mussed. Similar to how he looked after I’d used him for my own release. I needed him for that. Needed him to bring me back to reality. Something to remove the panic of a world when I wasn’t able to fix it.
I wanted to fix the world. And worse. I wanted to fix him.
I sucked in a breath once his words truly sunk in.
Fuck me sideways. He wanted to know why else I would have gone back?
Was Mr. Mafia self-conscious? Sparks of realization found their way into my clearing mind.
He yanked the driver’s side door open and slid behind the wheel, and that’s when I noticed the bags under his eyes.
“Did you sleep after I left?”
He didn’t say anything as he pulled out.
“That was like in the middle of the night, Parks. You should have slept.”
He grunted.
“Parks, you’ve never been a man of so few words before.”
He still didn’t talk, just handed me a water bottle.
“Drink.”
I took the water and glared. I wasn’t good at playing nice. But, at the same time, I wasn’t an asshole. I was the righter of wrongs. I fixed things. I needed to fix him.
“You were out-numbered Parks. I wanted to fight.”
I think the muscle on his jaw twitched. So maybe I was getting to him. Maybe he should have slept. Why must I do everything?
“Oh, Parksy-poo. Don’t be angry. Of course I wanted to come back to you. You know how I don’t like to back down from a fight. But also, it’s very, very clear you can take care of yourself.”
The sun streamed in bright as we exited the parking garage with my silent and deadly boyfriend. This not talking thing was going to get to me.
“Where are we going?”
I drank the water to pass the time. Slowly but surely, I was feeling moderately better.
“Nate didn’t give me a full dose, did he? Not if I’m awake already.”
Still nothing.
“So, I met someone last night. But you already knew that. Still. I mean he met me at the bar and now he’s never going to rape another girl again, if you know what I mean.”
