Page 75 of The Auction
“Didn’t know you were a fucking scientist.”
“You need to listen to me,” I said, and grabbed him around his bicep.
He stared down at where my hand touched his skin, just under his t-shirt. He turned his shark eyes in my direction and I dropped my hand like I’d been burned.
“You don’t fucking touch me,” he said, his tone flat. “Now, get out of my face. I don’t want to know you exist until I have to.”
He turned his back on me and I knew there was no point in saying anything else.
He was mad. Maybe he had a right to be. He’d beenreally, really nice to me lately and I…threw it back in his face.
I get how itlookedlike that, but it wasn’t that!
I wanted to have sex with him, for fuck’s sake! I’d already said yes, in my head!
No, I could fix this. I could make it right. Turning, I marched back toward the house. I would make him his favorite food, his favorite cookies. I would give him time to cool down and then make him listen.
Maybe explain some feminist concepts to him like agency and self-determination.
It would be fine. He was mad, but I would make him understand everything from my point of view.
Only dinner time came and went. Instead of following his normal routine after he came in from the barn, he went to his room instead.
Stubborn, I still kept the pasta salad and roasted chicken in the middle of the kitchen table waiting for him. Like once he inspected what I’d done, he’d see how sorry I was and sit down and eat.
Instead, I heard his shower running. Doors opening and closing. Then he left the house without so much as a glance toward the kitchen. I heard his truck start and I knew what it meant.
Creed wasn’t a man who made threats. Creed just said it like it was.
He was going out tonight to get some ass.
When the sobs came from my chest, I couldn’t stop them.
NINETEEN
JULIETTE
I heardthe truck pull up and I sat up from the couch. I was still in my overalls and shirt, but I’d lost my shoes before I’d tucked my feet into the cushions, because it was our brand new couch and I didn’t want to get it dirty with farm shoes.
What if he was still mad? What if he was drunk? What if he brought someone home?
My eyelids were swollen from crying, and my hair was probably all over the place, but I needed to finish this out. I wasn’t some coward who would hide in her room.
The front door opened.
Voices. Plural. Drifted into the living room.
“I don’t understand why I couldn’t get you to dance, cowboy.” Anonymous woman, who I wanted to kill.
“Don’t dance much.” Said Creed, who I wanted to kill more.
“Hmm. Okay, but you promised me a drink.” Back to anonymous woman.
I pushed myself off the couch and felt unstable for a second until I got my balance. My head was lightheadedfrom so much fucking crying and probably not enough water.
“Creed,” I barked.
Together, they stepped into the living room.
