Page 50 of Murder & Mayhem
All the color had drained from Jamie’s face when he finally looked up at me. It didn’t last long before he was turning away, like he couldn’t bear to look me in the eyes. He angrily wiped his face with the back of his hand before collapsing onto his bare ass on the cold tile. “I’m sorry,” he repeated.
I entered the room and knelt in front of him, careful to leave some space. “What are you sorry for, sweetheart?”
It was a genuine question. I was so fucking confused, but Jamie scoffed before giving the world’s biggest death glare.
He didn’t say anything at first. He climbed to his feet and stomped over to the sink, rinsed out his mouth, and then brushed his teeth. I stayed right where I was, watching, waiting. Finally, he spun around, eyes burning with anger and something like mortification. He waved the toothbrush at me like a weapon.
“Don’t play dumb,Dominic.” I flinched, not liking how my full name sounded on his lips now. “You know damn well what I did. Don’t act like it’s okay.”
“I’m not playing dumb. You need to spell it out for me, baby boy. ‘Cause you keep apologizing, but you also sound pissed at me, and I’m having a hard time locking down exactly what has you so upset. I can’t fix the problem if I don’t know what it is.”
That was . . . the wrong thing to say. Jamie was fucking seething. He stormed up to me and jammed the toothbrush into my chest.
“You can’t fix everything, Dominic! You can’t fix that I’m a monster, just like them!” Jamie spun on his heel and stormed out of the bathroom before his words fully registered.
Eventually, I got my head out of my ass enough to run after him. He made it back into the bedroom and had the underwear he’d chosen not to wear last night in his hands.
He stumbled as he put them on. I staggered, wanting to help, but one look held me back. How the hell had we ended up here?
Jamie stomped to the bedroom door—only wearing boxers that were two sizes too big for him—which, I didn’t fucking think so. Before I could fully register my actions, I grabbedJamie’s shoulder and spun him around. He shoved at my chest, but there was no force behind it. I pushed him against the wall and slammed the door closed again. I wasn’t sure if Gideon was home or not, so I wasn’t going to take that chance because the nosy fucker didn’t have any personal boundaries. We didn’t need an audience for this.
“Get the fuck outta my way.” Jamie shoved at my chest again.
My own anger was starting to build. “Not until you explain what the fuck is going on. Are you pissed at me or yourself? You don’t get to lash out at me and then call yourself a monster, which is so fucking bullshit by the way, and then walk away from me with no explanation. And you sure as fuck aren’t running around the house half naked like that.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized I’d fucked up. But I was too angry and in my head to backtrack now.
His eyes widened with indignation. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me, Jamie.”
Jamie’s eyes narrowed, the challenge in them obvious. “What happened to ‘I’ll always stop if you tell me to’?”
The air was thick with tension. It wasn’t the reaction I was expecting. I thought he would shout and tell me I had no right to tell him what to do. Not fucking accuse me of ignoring his boundaries. I raced through the conversation in my mind, so unsure where I’d gone wrong. With only a few words, Jamie had stopped my world, and whatever happened next, I knew it was monumental for us. Would make or break this thing between us.
My hand was on the wall by his head, trapping him in. I removed it but didn’t back off, not yet. “Are you telling me to stop?”
Jamie swallowed, surprise in his eyes, like he wasn’t expecting that reaction.
“Yes. Stop. No. Red. Back the fuck off. Whatever the fuck you need to hear.”
I stepped back, giving him the space he needed. First one step then another. Then I was turning away and all but sprinting back to my bed. I collapsed onto it, my chest tight. Jamie was standing stock still where I’d left him. He hadn’t moved at all. The beginnings of a migraine began to form behind my eyes. How could I have screwed up so badly? I’d had no idea he’d been asking me to stop. How had I not realized it? What had I missed?
Jamie still hadn’t moved, so I had time to make it right, but how? He’d safeworded. Very clearly this time. All I could do was respect that and let him go.
I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands, but it only made the pain behind them worse. Jamie was still pressed against the wall, and it was fucking killing me. My skin itched with the need to do . . . something. If I didn’t relieve the tension thrumming through me soon, I’d do something I regretted.
The only sound in the room was Jamie’s heavy breaths, and I couldn’t take it anymore. “I-I’m not keeping you in here. You can go wherever you want, whenever you want. I’m sorry I said that. I just—” Fuck, why couldn’t I get the words out? “I know I don’t have any right to say shit, but I can’t—I’ll probably kill my brother if he sees you like that. So please, can you put on something before you leave the room?” I wasn’t helping my case, but the possessive caveman asshole in me did not need him walking around like that.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jamie look down. He seemed not to even realize what he was wearing. “Okay.” His voice was soft, unsure, maybe a little scared. He grabbed the hoodie—my hoodie— from the floor and threw it on. It went down to his mid-thighs, covering him almost completely.
“Thank you.” My voice sounded hollow. Why the fuck hadn’t he left yet? After all that? What else did I need to say to make it clear I wasn’t going to stop him? Was that even what was holding him back? Jamie was too new to everything. Still too entrenched in his trauma. I knew better than to start anything, even something fairly innocent. There was a reason I stuck to hookups. This shit was too complicated.
A small whimper escaped Jamie, and then, in a voice so low I barely heard him, he whispered, “I’m sorry.” Then the door opened and he left, closing it behind him and leaving me to wonder how everything had gone so fucking wrong so quickly. I stared after him for longer than I’d ever admit, but Jamie never came back in. The only solace I had that there was still a chance to fix things was that he was wearing my hoodie and the switchblade was no longer on the table next to the bed.
CHAPTER 19
JAMESON
Islammed my hands on the kitchen counter. Then I did it again. And again. I was so fucking stupid. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. Just like Joey had always said.
