Page 113 of Touch Me

I spin on her. “They have my name, Cassie.”

“I never told them your name.”

“Them?Who isthem?You obviously showedthemthe pictures.”

“I didn’t. They saw but...” She slumps, defeated.

I fucking knew it.

“But what? You thought you’d use me to get ahead? Showcasing a new artist would sure as hell get you theinyou needed for the gallery opening? Right?”

“I’m not going to lie and say I didn’t think about it. But I swear, I didn’t.”

I wipe a towel over my face just to get a mere second of blindness. A second of not seeing her face. Her guilty face. She walks gingerly, getting closer, gauging my response. Like a hunter stalking her prey. I don’t want to back down but, if I’ve learned anything, it’s that trusting the hunter always gets you killed.

“Listen, I already got the job. I didn’t need your photos.”

“They already have them! That’s why you got the job!”

“No, I swear. I would never—”

“You just said you thought about it.” I take one aggressive step toward her.

Cassie doesn’t retreat, taking advantage of the closing distance, she takes a step toward me. “I did. Then I thought better of it.”

She reaches out to me, chin shaking, eyes shining, and I recoil away, feeling the burn before she even makes contact. “Don’t touch me.”

She flinches back and her hands cover her mouth, not believing I don’t want her touch. “Jace, please. Just listen.”

“I did listen. I heard nothing that changed my mind. Now go.”

“No, no. Please.” Tears stream down her face, her hands reaching for me again, as we do a dance around the gym. Her reaching, me retreating.

Hunter and prey.

I won’t be caught in her trap again.

The sight of her crying, in pain, cracks my chest open. But the feeling of fresh betrayal dumps a truckload of cement over the crack. It won't take long for it to harden, like it was before her.

“I won’t go. This can’t be it. Just let me explain it all.”

I’m done being weak. I’ve always been the easy target, so I stop running away and stalk toward her. “You know, I should've listened to everyone.” I bark out a laugh as she walks backward. “They all said you were trash.” She drops her hands and her eyes widen.

“No.” She shakes her head, brushing off the insult. “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t I? You used me. My house, my hospitality, my dick, and apparently, my art. All to get your sad little life moving in a better direction. You came from nothing and you’re still nothing,” I spit between clenched teeth, and she stops her retreat when her back hits the door.

Stop, that’s enough.

“I mean, your own mom doesn’t even call you. And do you even know who your dad is?”

Her face crumbles, eyes squeezing shut. No sound, just anguish.

“You’re trash, Cassie. You’ve always been trash, disposable. You were never anyone’s permanentanything.”

She shakes her head, tears soaking her shirt as they drip off her face. “That’s not how you feel. I know it’s not.”

Enough! I don’t want to hurt her anymore, but I can’t breathe.

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