Page 83 of For Wrath and Redemption
He snatches my wrists and holds them against his chest. “You’re a hypocrite, Davis.”
I snarl at his even tone. I’m a raging bitch, and he sounds unaffected. I want to rip his stupid head off and shove it down his throat.
“I’m not getting blitzed and fucking strangers, you moron.”
His nostrils flare and he tightens his grip on my hands.
“No, but I watch you. You pretend like you’re so composed, so superior, but I see you. Have you eaten today, Claire? Or did you run five miles on double espresso and chewing gum?”
My head jerks back. It’s a low, unexpected blow. “Shut up.”
“I watch you counting calories in your head.”
“Shutup, Jonah.”
“Why do you carry a toothbrush everywhere, Claire? Why are you so obsessive about your workouts? You think I don’t notice? I fucking do. You talk about controlling myself as if you’re any better, but you’re not, Claire. You’re no fucking better.”
“Iamin control.”
I rip my wrists out of his hands and take a step back. The bathroom is big enough that I can get several feet between us before I hit the shower. When I shout at him, though, the sound bounces off the walls. I still don’t lower my voice.
“I am in control, Jonah. So what is it you want to do? You want to punish me? You want to prove that I’m just as fucked up as you are? Will that somehow make you feel better?”
“Yes!” Finally, he shows some emotion, raising his voice to match mine. “Yes, Claire. Yes, I want to punish you. Yes, I want to know you’re just as fucked up as me. It does make me feel fucking better.”
“Why? What the hell is that solving?Why?”
“Because I can’t get you out of my fucking head! Because I’m fucking tormented with thoughts of you naked and moaning my name and driving me fucking mad, and then I have to picture you withhim.”
Jonah presses his palms into his eyes and groans.
“God, I hate you for it. I hate him. I hate you. I hate myself for not being able to stop thinking about you.” He drops his hands and takes a few steps toward me. “I look at you and I see me. I see us. And then I fucking seehim, and I want you to hurt like I do.”
I scoff. “You were going to get high and sleep with a groupie to hurt me? Do you realize how fucking stupid that is?”
“No, I was going to get high and sleep with a groupie to get you outof my fucking head. Make you hate me in the process, and I couldn’t fucking do it. I couldn’t even pretend that I wanted her, and I hated every single minute of it. But, Christ, I’m powerless. Don’t you get it? I’m fucking lost and losing, and I don’t know what your next move is. I don’t know how to win this one?—”
“This isn’t a game, Jonah. This isn’t?—”
“You said it was a game! You did! It’s chess, remember? Play the whole fucking board. Every move, calculated. Everything strategic. Queen of manipulation. But who are you playing? Me? My father? Yourself? Because fuck me, Claire, I really can’t tell, but I need to know. I need to know.”
I shake my head. I don’t understand what he’s saying. I don’t get it.
“What are you talking about? What does that even mean?”
He takes another step forward, close enough now to take my wrists again. This time, though, his grip is soft. He places my hands on his chest, holding me to him. So gentle, but desperate, too. His heart thuds under my palms, his pulse throbbing in his neck. That heart tattoo quivers with each panted breath, and I’m speechless. He’s completely unraveled, and I have no idea how to handle it.
“Tell me you feel it. I know I’m not imagining this. I know it. Tell me you feel it, too, whatever this is.”
I press my fingertips into his chest. “You’re high, Jonah. You’re going to regret all of this in the morning.”
“It’s not the drugs, Claire. It’s fucking present all the time. I can’t make it stop.” He presses his forehead to mine and laughs. “I already regret it.”
My mouth drops open, but I have nothing to say. I almost want to say something to soothe him, to walk it back, but I don’t know how. I can’t because, as usual, I understand him. I get it. I feel the same way. We’ve messed this up so badly.
“I know,” I whisper. “I know.”
He pulls back and hits me with those striking blue eyes. There’s hope swirling in them. Hope and sadness, and it makes me want to cry.
