Page 135 of The Renter
“No! Stay away from me! I don’t feel safe.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re making this about yourself right now?”
Eric comes in, panic on his face. “What the fuck is going on?” he whisper-yells at Adam, glancing around and noticing the glass on the floor.
“Sorry. I’ll buy whatever broke.”
“You can’t buy your way out of every fucking problem.” I scoff.
“Let’s go.” Adam grabs my arm, but I yank it away.
“I amnotgetting in a car with you!”
“Adam,” Eric says cautiously, positioning himself between Adam and me. It’s a tone I’ve heard in my mother’s voice so many times—the handler’s voice. “You need to leave. Right now.”
“You’re kicking me out?” He laughs, cocky. “You can’t kick me out of a house I own.”
“Don’t ruin Lily’s birthday any further. Go home.”
Adam glares at me. “You better not text him back.”
“Or what?” I whisper-scream, my rage boiling over as Eric starts to push him toward the door.
“Get your fucking hands off me,” Adam growls at him.
“Adam. You need to leave.”
“We’re done,” I say. “You broke your promise.”
“You’re breaking up with me?” he whisper-yells, swatting Eric’s hands away.
“Yes! You need to fucking figure your shit out.”
“I could say the same about you.” Eric puts his hands back on Adam’s chest as he tries to step closer to me.
“Fucking leave already!” I say through tears. “No one wants you here.”
Adam shakes his head. “I’ll call you tomorrow after we’ve both cooled down.”
“Don’t.”
His blue eyes, which I used to find so sexy but now don’t recognize, take in my seriousness and how serious Eric is as he starts pushing him toward the door. Adam begins to cry. I’ve never seen him cry. I’ve never even seen his eyes well up. I hate him right now, and I hate that I want to hug him. Most of all, I hate myself.I started this.
“I’m sorry, Dani. Sorry, Eric. I’ll tell Lily I’m sorry when I call her tomorrow.” He looks back and forth between us, seeing the sadness and disappointment in both our eyes. “Fuck,” he mutters, exiting through the kitchen door.
“Are you okay?” Eric asks after Adam is gone.
I nod, even though my body clearly says I’m not. I’m shaking. Eric pours me a glass of water, and I sip it, trying to stop the tears and calm down.
“It’s my fault,” I finally say. “I’m sorry. I owe Lily, too.”
Eric exhales, leaning on the kitchen counter. “He’s never hit you …” He barely makes out the statement that is actually a question.
I shake my head, and he nods the smallest amount. “I thought he was …” He trails off. “I haven’t seen that side of him in a long time.” Now Eric looks like he might cry. “He’s forty-four fucking years old and still breaking shit every time something doesn’t go his way.”
I look around the kitchen, seeing all the broken glass. “I’ll get it,” Eric says.
“I’ll call an Uber,” I say, picking up my phone from the floor. The screen is cracked and won’t turn on.
