Page 92 of Start A War (Saint View Psychos)

This was probably what I’d been like the first time I’d come here too. At least internally, if not verbally. It was a wonder Nash and Rebel had been as kind to me as they had, because if I was half as obnoxious as Sandra was being right now, then they really should have just booted me out the door on my ass.

Slowly, like she was being held at gunpoint, she climbed out of the car. I winced at her smart pantsuit and jacket. It looked completely out of place next to the jeans and tee I’d worn to the party last night. I’d showered at Rebel’s apartment, but I hadn’t had time to go home and change.

She took in my outfit at the same time and cringed. I couldn’t blame her though, when I’d just done the same thing to her. I pushed it aside, because she was the best friend I had and because she was the biggest gossip I knew. I’d learned early never to tell her my secrets. Not after I’d told her about my crush on Bobby Ornith in seventh grade. The entire school had known before lunch, and Bobby had rather publicly announced that he didn’t date fat chicks.

He’d been the boy who didn’t want to hold my hand.

So in the end, she had done me a favor, showing me that my affections were misplaced on a someone who could be that awful. But I’d never told her anything super personal since.

It worked in my favor now though. I dragged her inside the bar, ignoring her shocked gasp.

This was only the bar side. Imagine if I’d drawn back the curtain and revealed the door to where the parties were held. She would have immediately got to ordering a billboard to make sure everyone knew.

“Bethany-Melissa,” she whispered loudly. “This place is terrifying. That man is staring at us.”

I glanced over and grinned at Vincent, standing silently at one side of the room. He’d started the day before, but I hadn’t been working. “That’s just Vincent. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“He looks like he pulls the wings off flies for fun!” she hissed.

I totally didn’t agree. But maybe it was because I’d first met him as a childcare worker, and I’d seen how gentle and intelligent he was. But today, Vincent was dressed all in black, right down to his shitkicker boots. He didn’t smile. He had his arms crossed over his chest, his biceps popping, and his gaze a little too focused on me. He probably did look intimidating, but I knew he was the man who’d sat in my bathroom and never once sneaked a peek. He was the man who played Spider-Man with four-year-olds for hours, because he secretly kinda liked Spider-Man too.

And he was the man I’d kissed so softly a couple of nights ago. The one who’d kissed me back so gently and tentatively it had curled my toes.

I smiled, just thinking about his kiss. I knew better than to think that whatever I’d done with War last night was something that could turn into a relationship. I was too newly out of one to even consider it anyway. But my date with Vincent had me looking forward to when I was ready. I wouldn’t ask him to wait for me, of course, but maybe if he were still single in a couple of months…

I dragged my attention away from Psychos’ new bodyguard and forced it to stay on my friend. She still stared at Vincent with a mixture of terror and awe, and I had to snap my fingers in front of her face to get her attention. “Sandra! Focus.”

“Right.” She squinted at me. “What on?”

“I wasn’t sick last night. Caleb and I broke up.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Is your fever so high you lost your mind?”

“Like I said, not sick.”

Her blue eyes were round, and her perfect eyebrows had inched up on her forehead. “Caleb didn’t say a word!”

“He’s…not taking it well.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait, are you saying you dumped him?”

I nodded.

“Why on earth would you do something like that? He’s handsome. Wealthy. Influential. He’s the perfect man.”

Caleb was about the furthest thing from the perfect man. But it was degrading to think about all the abuse I’d put up with from him. And not just the big stuff, like when he hit me and raped me. It was all the little things. The never saying thank you when I made him a meal. The complete disinterest in my pleasure in the bedroom. The way he never introduced me by name to his colleagues. I was always just expected to be there in the background, smiling and waiting patiently on him to throw me a scrap of attention.

I’d thought that was the way relationships were. It was how Sandra and her husband were.

I’d thought the money was important enough that I could overlook all his flaws. I certainly had enough flaws that I could be tolerant of other people’s.

But I’d never hit someone.

I’d never forced myself on them just to hurt them.

I’d never cheated.

“Nobody is perfect,” I murmured. I wasn’t going to rehash it all for Sandra. It was embarrassing to admit I’d put up with it for as long as I had and painful to constantly go over it. “But we’re done. I gave back his ring.”

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