Page 47 of Quiet Rage
The best I can do is give him a tight smile and look for a way to end this. The obvious answer is the one I go with. “I’m running late. I’ve gotta go.” He doesn’t seem to mind and probably doesn’t care. He’s already thinking about something else.
So am I.
I just left her, but she’s the steel and I’m the magnet being drawn to it. All Dad did was remind me how I broke her down, and it’s only fair that I’m the one to build her back up. That has to be why there’s this nonstop need to see her, be with her, take care of her. It’s the least I can do.
I’ve been to her house so many times now, I could make the drive in my sleep. Lately that’s been a good thing, since I’ve been dragging my ass through exhaustion.
Last night was a different story. I don’t think I moved once all night, not even when Tamson rolled against me. I wish I had woken up. I wish I could have experienced the feel of her breath on my skin as she dreamed.
I’m starving, and not only for her. It’s the experience of being with somebody who isn’t getting paid to be there. I didn’t know it could be that simple and natural. Something as basic as talking in the dark before falling asleep together.
I don’t know who she’s turning me into. What I do know is, I’m not ready for it to end. Which is why I’m making this drive, hoping to catch her before she leaves for the day. I could watch her as she works, but that wouldn’t be the same as touching her.
And I doubt I could cross the threshold of the store without Frank seeing in the security feed. It would be ugly if he came out and accused me of beating him that day in the storage room. Or he might come out babbling about needing a little extra time before handing over a payment.
Somehow, that would be worse. Watching her watch it unfold. She’d never look at me the same way, and she already doubts me. So going inside is out. I have no other choice but to go to the house.
When I drive up the block, though, my heart sinks. Her car was parked one house down when I left earlier, but now the spot is empty. I’m too late. She’s already gone to work. It’ll be hours before I can taste her again. I might corner her in the alley, get a quick fix to hold me over…but I see how pathetic that is before the thought has time to take shape in my imagination. Is that who I am now? Stealing a few kisses and maybe feeling her up in an alley next to a dumpster?
That doesn’t stop me from driving to the store. A Jeep pulls out from a spot out front, and I take it, then watch through the window. I only want to make sure she’s in there, that she’s safe, that she’s well. Somehow, when I wasn’t paying attention, she became the center of my universe. Everything revolves around her now. There’s no fighting against it.
Her mom is at the register. She looks a little more put together than she did when we met. I guess she has to help run the business sometimes. It’s a shame she can’t force her husband to stop gambling away their profits. Ten minutes pass, then twenty, and still no Tamson. Where the hell is she?
At the half-hour mark, I pull away, drumming the steering wheel with my fingers, bouncing my left knee in agitation. She’s not home, and she’s not at work. Where else would she go?
The only thing I can think to do is go back to the house and wait for her there. Otherwise…would anybody do anything to hurt her? Tiana wouldn’t, would she? She’s probably pissed I haven’t responded to any of her texts asking to hang out, promising all kinds of things I’m not interested in. Would she decide to take that out on Tamson?
No, I’m being paranoid.
It’s just that I’ve never cared about anybody like I do about her. There’s never been anybody in my life I wanted to shelter and protect. I don’t know what to do with all of this seething rage that’s really a feeling of helplessness turned bitter. I’m helpless right now, wired as hell with nothing I can do about it.
Her car still isn’t back at the house, though there’s a spot open two doors down that I park in, looking up and down the street, knowing her car isn’t here but hoping to see it anyway. An annoying sense of dread launches me out of the truck and takes me down the sidewalk, where the house sits empty. I jam my finger against the doorbell, but it’s no use. There’s nobody inside.
“What are you doing here?”
Fuck, yes.The one voice I wanted to hear. I have to turn around to make sure it’s her, that I’m not hearing things. She’s standing on the sidewalk, head tipped to the side. Nothing has ever looked better. I can exhale now.
My relief doesn’t last long, going brittle in the blink of an eye. “Where the hell were you?”
It comes out as a snarl, and my feet pound the walkway before I come to a stop almost toe-to-toe with her. My hands flex—I want to take hold of her, to shake her like a ragdoll. Now that she’s here in front of me, I’m choking on the impulse to punish her for putting me through this.
Her eyelids flutter, and her mouth falls open. “I was having lunch with a friend. At a diner, the one across from the movie theater.”
“A friend?” She doesn’t have friends. My hands close around her upper arms, squeezing until she winces. “Who was it?”
“Emma!” she blurts out, snapping her head back, looking at me like we’re strangers. “What is it with you? I was having lunch with Emma. She texted me after you left and asked if I wanted to get together to get something to eat. I didn’t know that was a crime!”
Emma. I didn’t know she knew Emma. “You two know each other?”
“As a matter of fact, she was the only person nice enough to help me clean myself up after Tiana went at me with a marker. You remember that, right?” There’s an edge of anger in the question. Blame. “She’s a sweet person. I like her a lot.”
Arching an eyebrow, she adds, “And if you want to confirm my story, Easton and Preston showed up looking for her. They’ll tell you where I was, Warden.”
“All right, all right.” My hands drop to my sides. “You don’t need to say that. I was worried, that’s all.”
“About me? Why?”
Good question. Because I need to know everything about her. Everything she does, everyone she sees and speaks to, all of it.
