Page 28 of Anger

It clicks shut behind me.

Blue is on the far side of the room, her wings pressed up against a wall where she’s keeping as much distance between us as possible.

“Why are you here, Champ?”

I like that she calls me Champ. Not sure why. Maybe because it helps separate me from a life I’m not sure I want anymore. My real name would only drag me back to that place. At least, here, I can pretend there’s an escape.

“Not sure,Blue.” I emphasize my nickname for her with a smirk. “Maybe it’s to see you.”

Taking a few steps forward, I keep my approach as slow as possible. Her eyes remain glued to mine, but she does nothing to move away.

“I thought I told you last night to leave. There’s nothing I can give you.”

Oh, on that, she’s wrong.

But I refuse to tell her.

Once I’m within a few feet of her, she slides along the wall to place more distance between us. Pity for her there’s not much space for her to run.

The theme in this room is different from last night. It’s smaller in size and has nothing but a table in the center. I glance down and laugh to myself at the cuffs and shackles that hang down from the sides.

“They’re easily broken, if you know the trick,” she explains, drawing my attention back to her. I stare at her without answering, her voice shaking a touch when she adds, “Just so you know.”

I shouldn’t be here.

This isn’t me.

I’m not a bastard who enjoys scaring women or pushing them around.

So why the fuck am I?

“Like I said, there’s nothing I can do for you, and I don’t think any of the other women here can either. It’s probably best you leave.”

Blinking at that, I snap out of my thoughts long enough to realize what I’m doing.

My feet stop in place, my expression softening. Genuine curiosity rushes in to replace whatever the hell it was that I was feeling.

“Why did you come back here if you want me to leave?”

Relaxing a touch at the question, she looks me up and down, a sad smile stretching her lips when our eyes meet again.

“I don’t want you getting yourself in trouble like last time.”

Confused by that, I don’t respond.

For whatever reason, she relaxes more, her shoulders no longer tense and her voice less careful.

“Maybe you should look in a mirror before leaving the house,” she suggests. “You have the same look on your face tonight that you had before the fight that got you thrown out of here.”

My brows tug together. “I was smiling and laughing that night.”

She’s quiet for a few seconds, her eyes dropping to her shoes before she swallows hard and looks back at me.

“You’re still angry. I don’t care how much you’re smiling. You can’t bullshit a bullshitter, Champ.”

Her words force a resurgence of anger through me, my mind muddled with the need to strike out at someone.

Hurt someone.

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