Page 182 of Remiss
Later that day, Diesel sat in his office. He’d barely concentrated on his paperwork today, hadn’t made one call, or attended a single meeting.
He was just about to call it a day and go to the club when his door opened and Tabitha sashayed in, carrying a stack of files.
She slammed his door shut. “Brooks just told me you’ve been here all day,” she said, walking to his desk and setting the files next to him.
“I have been.” He didn’t bother to look at what she’d brought. “Deep in thought. I haven’t even eaten today.”
She studied him. “Is something wrong?”
A fuckton. Diesel shrugged.
“When are you coming back to the condo?”
“Soon.” He didn’t know if that was true or not. He didn’t know anything. “I don’t have an exact date.”
“How about this weekend?”
“Maybe.”
“You’re acting weird. Human.”
“I can say the same about you,” he told her, bored.
“You’re such a fucking dickhead.”
“Then why do you want me?” he asked without censure, truly wanting to know.
She floundered for an answer at his unexpected question.
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” she finally said. “You have a beautiful big dick that you know how to use to please a woman.You’re charming at times. And you’re wealthy. Why wouldn’t I want you?”
“Because we never should’ve married. I resented you for it.”
“I don’t care,” she said, tossing her hair. “We are married.”
“I don’t want you, Tabitha. I’m sorry if that hurts you and I’m sorry for being such a fuckhead. I don’t love you.”
Her professionally arched eyebrows lifted. “Do you even believe in love? Would you recognize it?”
“Does it fucking matter?” he snapped. “I know how it feels when it isn’t there.”
“You’re such a fuckhead,” she snarled, backing away and folding her arms. “All because you can’t overcome your mommy issues.”
He roared to his feet. “Shut your fucking mouth.”
“Fuck you. She probably took one look at your whiny face and couldn’t run fast enough.”
“That isn’t fucking true!” he snarled, storming to her. “She was hurt. My father hurt her. She doesn’t even know I existed.”
Tabitha narrowed her eyes. “Who told you that?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said tightly.
“Nope. Sure doesn’t. Only you and your stupid fuckheadness. No, your need to be miserable. I’m sure precious Aunt Meggie created that story to soothe the hurt in her poorson,” she said viciously.
“That isn’t true! And I don’t want her name to pass your fucking lips. You don’t have the fucking right.”
“Fuck you. Who told you that bullshit, Diesel?”
