Page 107 of Ruthless Creatures
“Mine wasn’t loaded. Yours would be.”
I can feel his outrage. “Your gun isn’t loaded? Why the hell not?”
“I only have it because my dad left it here. And this is a town of only about four thousand people with very low crime. And I have a big dog.”
Kage’s laugh is sour. “The dog who greeted me with a wagging tail when I picked your back-door lock, then promptly went to sleep on the sofa?”
“Yeah. That’s Mojo. I know he’s not exactly on high alert.”
“No, he’s on Prozac.”
“He’s a happy dog!”
“Happy dogs don’t make good guard dogs. We should get you a Rottweiler.”
I picture a two-hundred-pound furry monster baring sharp, saliva-dripping fangs at me while I’m sleeping. “Hard pass.”
“Then at least load your gun.”
“I don’t have any ammunition.”
Kage’s sigh conveys his extreme disappointment in my lack of preparation for a home invasion.
I keep my tone light when I say, “I’ll be safe for at least the next week, anyway. So there’s that.”
Another dissatisfied grumble. The arm around my body squeezes me tight.
I know his mind is working, running over what I said. I didn’t mean it as a rebuke, but it might’ve sounded that way. Like I was blaming him for not being here more.
Like I was trying to make him feel guilty.
When I open my mouth to explain, he interrupts me.
“I know you’re not giving me shit.”
I whisper, “Okay. Good.”
But there’s tension in his body. I’m pretty sure I can hear him grinding his teeth.
“You’d be justified, though,” he says, his voice low. “This arrangement can’t be easy for you.”
My heart flutters. I bite my lip, trying not to ask him what I want to ask him, but finally give in to the urge and say it anyway. “Is it easy for you?”
He inhales and exhales slowly, turning his face to my neck. Close to my ear, he whispers, “It’s fucking torture, baby.”
I wait, but he doesn’t offer to change things. He doesn’t offer to fix it. No matter how difficult it might be for us to see each other only every once in a while, it looks like that will continue.
Because for whatever reason, Kage doesn’t want to change the status quo.
For my safety, supposedly. But aren’t I just as vulnerable here, with the police breathing down my neck and my stalker ex-boyfriend plotting who knows what in retaliation for me pulling an Annie Oakley on him?
Maybe. Maybe not. I’ll never know, because he’ll never tell me.
That thought makes me unspeakably sad.
When I bury my face into the pillow, sighing, Kage whispers, “What if…?”
My eyes snap open and my heart starts to pound. “What if what?”
