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Once we were outside the doors, I told him, “Because Snow has asked me not to call the cops on you, I’m going to call for a taxi and you’re going to get out of here and—”
“Fuck that.” He headed back toward the door.
I grabbed him again. He swung and his punch landed right in the middle of my face. A gush of blood from my nose told me that hit actually did do some damage, but there was too much adrenaline in my body at that moment for me to feel any pain.
Just like when Claire was being attacked by her ex. For a second, I was back there, beating the shit out of her abuser as she escaped from him.
Hunter hit me again, right in the chest, knocking the air out of me but pulling me back to the here and now. Next thing I knew I had him on the ground, my fist raised up above us both.
How did I get there?
Weren’t we just standing a second ago?
I stared down into his eyes and I saw fear. He was now fighting to get me off him. Had I punched him? From the look on his face, no. Blood dripped from my face, but as far as I could tell, I hadn’t hit him—yet. But I almost did and that scared the shit out of me.
I pulled back, scrambling to my feet. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to do more than hurt him. I wanted to kill him.
And what scared me was that I knew I could have.
Hunter got to his feet, and before I could utter one word, he took off toward the road.
I stood there, in shock.
I had lost all control. I had blacked out. What would have happened if I hadn’t pulled out of the darkness?
I didn’t know the answer to that, and a large part of me was afraid to know.
25
Bash
Iwasn’t sure what I expected when I knocked on her door, but I was relieved to find Snow with a big smile on her face. She grabbed my arm and said, “Come in, Bash! You’re just the person I need right now.”
I laughed. “Well it feels good to be needed, I guess. What’s up?”
“futile My article. I finally started it,” she said. “And I’d love another writer’s help, if you’re willing to give me some feedback?”
“Of course, I’d be happy to, but I don’t know if I’d call myself a writer. I haven’t written a word in months.”
“That needs to change. I’m going to give you my contact info, and I want you to promise me you’ll send me the manuscript when it’s finished, okay?”
Snow was excited to read my book. I’d never had someone interested in reading my work before. My parents told me that writing as a career was a fruitless endeavor and a waste of my talents, which they thought would be better served working in the fashion industry. Obviously that couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Uh, okay,” I said, smiling at the thought of her reading my book.
“You haven’t told me much about it,” Snow said as she curled up on the couch and patted the spot next to her. Her laptop was on the coffee table along with a cup of tea.
“Well we still have plenty of time for that.”
Her face fell and she looked away from me. “Maybe less time than I had planned.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well… it looks like I may have to leave Monday morning. My boss needs me back at work.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s either that or I’m fired, and since I can’t afford losing my job, I guess I have to cut my trip short. But I swear, I will be back.”
My heart sank. We hardly knew each other, but I was hoping to get to know her better over her stay. To find out she was leaving sooner than expected was not news I had hoped to hear. “You better be.”
She had mentioned staying in touch after leaving. I had never kept in touch with any guest once they walked out the door. Some were repeat clients and I might remember their names, but that was about it which I was fine with.
