Page 31 of Full Tilt
This is deliberate and all for effect. This is to get back at me for sleeping with that guy and telling him about it. This is a move designed to reject me in the way I rejected him.
It has to be.
I can’t be sure how Tommy knew I’d catch him. Maybe he just banked on me using the bathroom at some point during the night and hoped I’d be alone when I did. Not that the how or why matters because he’s already accomplished what he set out to achieve.
I hate him even more than I did thirty seconds ago.
When his jaw hangs open, I know she just brought him to the point of no return, and I slam the stall door shut, stalking out of the bathroom with tears in my eyes that I’m certain he noticed.
I’m halfway to the bar exit when I swear I hear him calling my name.
Or maybe that’s just my imagination. I don’t know, and I don’t care. Tommy can call after me all he wants, but he’ll neverget an answer. He’ll never get to see the whites of my eyes ever again.
When the freezing air hits my bare skin, I realize I left my jacket in the bar. I keep walking, not caring and with no intention of heading back to retrieve it.
“Jenna!” a gruff voice I know to be Tommy’s calls after me again, and I pick up my pace, convinced I’m capable of outrunning him in my sneakers.
Another few steps, and a thick forearm wraps around my waist, spinning me around to look at him.
His eyes are remorseful, the complete opposite of the Tommy who beat up Curtis Freeman. Still, I won’t be fooled. I know what lurks behind those pretty irises.
“Get off me!” I yell, but he pulls us both into a darkened side street.
I momentarily break free before he recaptures my arm and pins me against a filthy brick wall.
Every cell in my body thrums at his proximity, but not in the good way, like before in the Boston hotel. This time, I genuinely want him to leave me alone.
More tears threaten to spill free, and I will them away as Tommy towers over me, brushing a few strands of hair away from my face.
He doesn’t get to be gentle with me. He doesn’t get to show that he cares.
With two hands against his chest, I push him out and into the center of the street. He could have probably fought back or held on tighter if he wanted, but something tells me he got the message loud and clear.
It feels like my eyeballs are busting from their sockets as I raise a single finger in front of me. “Never.EVER. Come near me again. Don’t ever look in my direction.” I barely recognize my own voice or the words that cut at him.
He opens his mouth but quickly clamps it shut, and I start to tremble in the cold night air, a mixture of the chilling fall breeze and adrenaline taking hold deep within my bones.
“You make me sick,” I spit at him. “Youare fucking sick.”
A tear runs down my cheek, and I swipe it away, more infuriated with myself and the display of unwanted emotion.
He doesn’t get to see my upset.
“She never touched me in that way, Jenna.” His tone is soft but unsure as he takes a cautious step toward me.
I raise my finger again in warning, and he stops dead.
While Tommy’s body completely blocked my view of what was happening, I don’t need to be a genius to figure it out. “I know what I saw,” I say, “and I’m so disgusted with myself for getting into these games with you in the first place. You bring the worst out in me, Tommy.”
He shakes his head, and I nod mine.
“Yes, you do. You’re toxic.Weare toxic whenever we’re near each other. You might be good with using people to score points, but I’m not.”
Something like genuine regret flashes in his eyes, but it’s so brief that I question if I saw it in the first place.
Probably not.
With nothing else to say, I turn my back on him and start to walk away.
