Page 29 of Mad As Hell

The memory of that night was more than enough ammunition to fortify myself. “We’re done, Ryan.”

His eyes flashed with warning, but there was no anger in it. Almost like my words were a challenge and he couldn’t wait to engage. “Mads.”

“Stop calling me that,” I gritted out through clenched teeth.

“I fucked up,” he continued quietly, shame coloring his words.

“No,” I replied scathingly. “You fucked me.”

Now he winced, and a tiny streak of triumph shot through me at seeing his regret.

A muscle in his jaw ticked as he reined in a retort dancing on the tip of his wicked tongue. He was trying, that much was obvious. “Can I just explain? Can we talk?”

“Why?” I demanded. “Why, Ryan? Because you feel bad?”

“I do feel bad,” he insisted. “I feel like shit.”

“You should,” I shot back. “And if you feel some need to unburden your conscience to make yourself feel better, then that’s your problem. Not mine. I’m done hearing your lies, and I’m done playing your games.”

“You’re still my fiancée,” he pointed out grimly, loading that last, fatal bullet in the chamber of his emotional arsenal.

I held up my ringless left hand. “I’m not your anything.” Okay, so that was technically a lie, since Gary was definitely holding me to this unholy alliance, but right now, I was pissed.

“Fine,” he agreed, his tone deceptively calm. The kindness in his eyes slowly swirled to calculating ice. It was a look I knew too well.

A thrill shot through my chest that echoed between my thighs.

I needed fucking therapy.

His breath fanned across my face as he leaned in closer. “I get that you need to sulk and lick your wounds, baby. But I’m not going anywhere.”

My eyes narrowed and my breathing grew shaky. “This has nothing to do with sulking. I’m not some petulant child who got her feelings hurt. What you did to me? It’s unforgivable, Ryan. So, go away. Get on with your life. A life that doesn’t involve me. Maybe if you really push it, we can just be done with each other for good.”

His blue eyes glittered like twin diamonds as he stared down at me. “I messed up, and I’ll own that. I’ll put in the time to make it up to you, but it changes nothing between us. You’re mine.”

“Fine. Whatever. Are we done here? I still have to go to class so I can get something else dumped on my head.”

He flinched. “I heard about what happened. Are you okay?”

I stared at him as if he’d grown another head. “Fabulous. I’m thinking of starting every day with a smoothie scalp treatment. Think Brylee would give me the recipe? It smelled like sour milk and tuna, but it might’ve been halibut.”

His jaw clenched. “Can you just stop with the attitude for a fucking minute, Mads?”

I draped a hand over my chest in mock surprise. “I’m so sorry. Is my tenuous grip on not losing my shit offensive to you? How would you like me to handle being made a fool of, Ryan? How can I possibly make this whole situation easier for you?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

He grunted and pressed his lips into a flat line. “Can I come in?”

“No.”

“Maddie, we need to talk about what’s going on,” he argued, bracing his hands on the doorframe. He glanced pointedly at my hand. “And we both know that, ring or not, there’s no getting out of this deal.”

Fuck him. No, seriously. Fuck Ryan Cain.

And I hated that he was right.

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