Page 144 of Anger

Backing away until my back collides with her bureau, I stare down at a bitch who is dragging back the voices.

“This conversation is done. Either get up, get dressed and pack a bag of clothes to bring with you, or I’ll carry you out like you are, not giving a shit who sees.”

Blue sits up and eyes me.

“Or…” She swipes more hair from her face. “You can get the fuck out of my apartment like I told you.”

“Not happening unless you’re leaving with me.”

I cross my arms over my chest.

“How did you even get in here in the first place?”

I open my mouth to answer, but she holds up a finger to silence me.

“You know what? Never mind. I’m sure you have a lock picking set in your back pocket.”

“I’m not playing with you, Blue. You’re leaving with me.” My voice is a warning.

This was fun until she asked a question that cut far too deep.

This will be our little secret…

It got your brother to fight…

I shake off the memories that are sneaking out and focus on the task at hand.

“I’m not going anywhere with—”

My voice roars, the windows of her crappy apartment shaking from the loud noise. “Just get your shit and follow me to my car! I’m not giving you another choice!”

Blue sits back and assesses me.

“There he is … The man I met the first night you followed me to a back room.”

“He’s not a man you want to play with. I assure you.”

Blue rolls her eyes. “I’ve played with worse.”

Finally pushing to her feet, she crosses the room en route to her closet.

“You know, maybe talking about your issues will finally keep that storm from erupting. You don’t fool me.”

Opening the closet door, she turns to look at me.

“And you don’t scare me, either.”

I smirk at that and ask her a question. “Then why are you following orders?”

She smirks in return. “That question will cost you your shirt if you really want an answer. Bet you won’t take it off now that I’m talking about something you prefer to hide.”

When I don’t respond, she walks in her closet, her voice drifting out into the room. “Thought so.”

Licking my tongue over my top teeth, I turn to look out the window.

Some junkie shuffles through the parking lot, bends down to pick up a baggy that fell from his pocket then goes from one crappy car to another, trying the door handles to see what he can steal.

Hangers bang against the closet rod and I assume she’s gathering clothing together.

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