Page 43 of All That Glitters
“Then why are you still here?”
I bit the words out, my voice cold, my tone brooking no argument. With any other woman, there would be fear and a scrambling to get away from me. But not Helen. I should’ve known.
“Because it wouldn’t look good for me to leave you on the floor.”
“I’m fine. At least here you can’t run me over the way your brother did.”
I felt her sigh as much as I heard it. I understood that how I felt about her from minute to minute didn’t make sense. Nothing was linear anymore. Everything about my life was all over the place.
And taking it out on her felt both good and bad.
“You’re an asshole,” she said softly.
“Yeah.” I could own that.
She got to her feet in one smooth move while it took me several questionable and painful moments to stand.
“Are you ever going to let it go? Are you ever going to try to let it go?”
“I don’t know. Maybe when I take it out on you,” I said, speaking the words that continued to run rampant in my head.
I felt her gaze shift back toward me but I kept mine averted. I wouldn’t look at her. I wouldn’t allow myself to see what was written on her face. I wouldn’t allow myself to see her hurt or even her anger. I didn’t want to see her indignation.
What I wanted most, I couldn’t have.
I wanted her.
Not for revenge. For me.
But the anger and need for payback wouldn’t let me have her for myself.
That pissed me off, too.
“What do you have in mind?”
The words weren’t what I expected and I turned surprised eyes on her.
“Will it really make you feel better to hurt me?”
“It might. Nothing else has.”
“Tell me where and when and I’ll be there.”
“Stop being so fucking agreeable.”
“Do you want me to fight you? Are you spoiling for a fight?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not going to give you that. You fight yourself enough that you don’t need me to fight you, too.”
“Leave it to you to be logical. I tell you I want to hurt you and you say okay. Jesus, Helen… Just fucking go home.”
“Oh there’s the real asshole.”
“Fuck you.”
“If that’s what it takes.”
