Page 82 of Nightmare

She scoffs. “You’re wrong. Western wanted to marry me. We were in love. It’s only because he is so hard that I started to pull away. I left, but it was only for a while. He’s mine, do you understand me?”

“Whatever,” I mumble.

“Hazel,” Western’s gravelly voice appears, “shut the fuck up.”

He’s back.

I can’t see him from behind my curtain, but there is no missing his raspy, masculine voice.

I keep my eyes closed.

“Excuse me,” Hazel throws at him. “You don’t get to tell me to shut up when you’ve been cheating on me.”

“Didn’t cheat on you. We’re over.”

My curtain rustles, but I don’t bother opening my eyes to see Western. I know it’s him.

“You’re not seriously going to her? Western, so help me, I can make this ugly.”

He ignores her.

The ruffling of his boots alerts me that he’s beside my bed, and a moment later, his rough thumb comes out and slides over the bandage on my forehead before trailing down my cheek and stopping at my lips. I hold my breath, not wanting to look at him, afraid that I’ll cave instead of being angry at him, which I have the right to be. I’m not getting the full story here; I know I’m not.

Hot lips press against mine, and I inhale his musky scent. I don’t kiss him back, even though it takes everything inside me not to. His lips remain against mine for a moment, before pulling away, but he doesn’t go far. His warm breath tickles my skin.

“You’re mad.”

No shit.

“Sometimes,” I whisper. “I hate you, Western.”

He kisses me again. “You don’t hate me.”

When he pulls away this time, I open my eyes. He’s staring down at me, his eyes guarded. My face feels as though it’s swelling, and I’m struggling to see him properly. Wonderful, a black eye is exactly what I want right now. I exhale and just stare at him, our gaze long and lingering.

“If you’re kissing her, I’m going to lose it,” Hazel yells.

Western looks exhausted as he turns and jerks the curtain open. “I said, shut the fuck up.”

I can see her now, and if my face looks anything like hers, then it’s bad. Her eye is mostly swollen shut, she has a bruise on her cheek and forehead, and a few grazes. She looks like she has done a few rounds with some sort of wild animal, but really, we just took on the stairs. She glares at me without fail, though. Her eyes burning right through mine.

“Do not,” she grinds out, “tell me to shut up again. I’m about done with you, Western.”

“Don’t know why you came back, Hazel. I was done with you weeks ago.”

Her mouth drops open as he slides the curtain back over, cutting her off.

Ouch.

Harsh.

I can’t help the little smile that tugs at my lips, though.

She deserves it.

Western’s gaze moves to my smile, and he leans down again, kissing me once more. He has never kissed me so much, and I can’t act like I’m not enjoying it. “Fuckin’ evil,” he murmurs against my lips. “Rest. I’ll come get you tomorrow.”

“I can’t rest with her right there, yelling at me.”

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