Page 7 of Under the Influence
“I hateyou.”
Gio actually flinches from my whisper. I know I’ve already told him that at least once this afternoon. But it’s true. And, with the last of my dignity obliterated in front of this gawking audience, I can’t think of anything better. Nothing more clever. Nothing more punishing. Which doesn’t really matter because nothing I say or do ever has any impact on him. He’s too arrogant to care. Or notice. Orunderstand.
Surprisingly, he doesn’t protest when I twist away from his huge hand pawing my back. Ironic how much I used to welcome his protective touch. When I naively believed he actually cared about keeping me safe. Rather than being the one to hurt me more than anyone everhas.
I force myself to smile. Lift my head. He no longer controls me. He no longer has any impact on me. My heart or my body. Instead, I seek help from a man who never disappoints me. Or, offers me anything other than kindness. “Tucker, would you mind taking me homeplease?”
“It would be mypleasure.”
For once he doesn’t look to Gio for approval. Instead, he holds out his arm, which I’ve never been more grateful to clutch. Uncertain if I could cross the marble floor on my wobbling legs by myself. “Thankyou.”
Seemingly too shocked to speak, Gio doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t even follow us outside. Although I’m not fooled. The respite is temporary. Just a short reprieve until he attacks again. He’ll come back fighting harder and longer and dirtier. Fierce in his attempts to wear me down and win me back. Because he loves a challenge. Even if he doesn’t loveme.
Always a gentleman, Tucker draws me closer to his lean body once we step outside. Blocking the brisk wind lifting the hem of Gio’s jacket and exposing my bare skin to the icy droplets pummeling down upon us. The bulky holster under his coat digs into my rib cage. A subtle reminder of the role he plays in his boss’s life. Protecting him from his enemies, if nothimself.
He ushers me down the sidewalk in silence. A man of few words. Which I appreciate now more than ever. Because I don’t think I can speak without sobbing. Not that he hasn’t witnessed my tears before. Happy tears when Gio was at his best. Surprising me with romantic dinners and sweet, extravagant gestures like filling my entire apartment with my favorite blue tulips. As well as humiliated tears when Gio decided that a threesome with two girls he just met was more appealing than one girl who loves him more than she ever realized waspossible.
Loved.
I do not love himanymore.
I can’t allow myself to love himanymore.
Tucker’s hand doesn’t leave my elbow until I slide onto the already warmed seat of Gio’s Mercedes. Lush with the scent of his rich leather and smoky cologne mingling in the decadent interior. The bulletproof, shaded windows hiding me from the world if not my emotions from being in his car again. Withouthim.
I slump back into the cushion. Suddenly exhausted. Drained from the adrenaline squeezing my muscles for too long. From the battle raging in my conscience by the guilt crushing me. So foolish for me to be happy to see him. After I fought so hard. Pretended for so long that I don’t care about him. That I don't want him. That I haven’t missed his arrogant smirk and possessive touch and endless reverence to my mind and body for every single minute of the past twenty-fourweeks.
Brisk air whips across my frigid nose again when Tucker climbs in. Although he remains mute despite the awkwardness. Just starts the engine and shifts the gear into drive, smoothly pulling out into a brief gap in the Friday afternoon traffic. Never diverts his attention away from the vehicles jockeying for the best position to beat the changinglight.
Which is for the best. I don’t need to be consoled after what happened. I need to be slapped for being so damn ignorant. So pathetic. So unbelievably weak. Which I hate. Because getting over him was the hardest thing I've ever done. Only to realize in less than one short second that Ihaven't.
I'm not overhim.
I'm not sure if I ever canbe.
And I despise myself for still wantinghim.
Sliding out my phone, I scroll to Leighton's number. Hesitation creeps in. Doubt’s an insidious emotion. Strangling tighter around my nervous heart with each excuse I make to myself. Probably too soon to call him. Won’t hurt to wait a few hours. Give him a chance to calm down after Gio’s threats fade a bit. See if I can salvage what Gio ruined. Attempt to convince Leighton – and myself – that I want to be withhim.
Instead, I tap the next name in the list. She’s probably finished bynow.
Are youdone?
Only a few seconds pass.Yes! Hell yeah! Finals are over!!! How’s theparty?
No sense delaying the fire storm.I left.We brokeup.
Easier to type those words rather than reveal yet that he dumped me. Her ring tone cuts through the silence. Guess she feels the same way about texting meback.
"What the fuckhappened?"
My eyes burn from the absolute fury sharpening her tone. Never cross a woman's best friend or be prepared to face her wrath too. "It's a longstory."
"Chryseis!"
And, now she's yelling. Pissed from my evasiveness. “I can't talk about it now. Meet meat–"
"Why can't you talk about itnow?"
