Page 51 of His Good Girl
He looks like he wants to say something else, but he presses his lips together and brushes past me, standing sentry by the door.
“If you go to him, I will kill him. Are we clear?”
Mouth agape, I watch him yank open the door and stalk out, the apple guy silently following him down the stairs. I have nothing to say to that. I’m shocked and horrified that he would even make a threat so enormous.
But deep down, I know it’s not a threat. It’s a promise. Quentin has shown his true colors, and to say I’m scared is an understatement.
With shaking hands, I close the door quietly and slide the bolt into place. Stepping back, I start to unravel the bandage from my left arm, winding it around and around until my arm is bare, and then I do the other one.
“Are you okay?” Rue asks, coming quietly back into the room. “What did he say?”
I want to tell her, but I daren’t. I don’t want anything happening to her, so I have to protect her from this weird darkness that has fallen suddenly over my family and over my life.
“I told him he had nothing to do with this, so he can go away and forgive himself.”
“And that’s it?”
“In a nutshell. I understand if this freaks you out, but having them on is freaking me out, and I want them off.” I turn to her, dropping my arms to my sides, my fists full of bandages.
“It doesn’t bother me.”
I nod and cross into the kitchen to chuck them away.
“Do you really want to go to mine?” she asks quietly. “Will it help you to see him?”
“I don’t want to see him. Whatever it was, it is over. I want to move forward.” I say the lie with a breaking heart but a bright smile, so she believes me.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Positive thoughts only now. I’ve had my pity party, and now I want to be a normal girl again, not the freak who can’t handle her shit.”
“Well, that’s relative,” Rue starts, but I shush her.
“We’ll take this week off and do some shopping and go out to eat and maybe catch a movie. I want to have fun and put all this dark shit to bed.”
Her brown eyes stare at me, no doubt trying to ascertain if I’ve lost the plot or am actually shaking this off and moving forward.
“Sounds like a plan to me, boo. But how about today we order a pizza, watch a film and light up the city tomorrow, hmm?”
“I can live with that,” I say with a smile and actually feel it in my heart.
My soul, on the other hand, is weeping.
Chapter29
Logan
“Ifeel like a fucking mummy.”
“Well, ya look like one too, so unless you got a hot date, shut the fuck up and sit down.”
“Rose,” I whine, sounding like a child, but I must look shocking. Call me vain, but yeah, here we are. My face is bandaged up with old Irish healing herb poultices to bring down the swelling. It’s working, and the pain isn’t as unbearable, but two days later, I could really do with just being a hundred percent fixed up and back to work. Working from home has never been my thing. Although the lack of company appeals to me, I feel I have a lack of motivation. Home is home. Work is work.
“Sit,” she commands, and I do as she says, grateful when there is a knock at the door.
My heart leaps into my throat as I sit up straighter. “Rue,” I murmur. Please let it be Rue. There is absolutely no way I can allow myself to hope it is Serena standing on the other side of the door.
Rising to answer it, I stall halfway, hovering over the sofa, when Rose yells, “Sit yer fecking arse down, you fecking stubborn cunt. I’ve got it.”
