“Let it go,” I growl deep in my throat.
“Talk to me? Why were you here?” His voice is softer now but it does nothing to ease my hurt.
“It doesn’t matter. Now, let the door go.” I try again but he holds firm.
I can sense the agitation coming off him. Well, he can join the freaking club because I am pissed and ready to blow this place and get home to lock myself away and forget this day ever happened.
“It doesn’t matter? Fucking hell, Stevie, you told me that you two never talk anymore and here you are— at her home, fighting with her.”
“Yeah, like you lied to me. You told me that you were single, yet you are back with her.” It slips out before I can stop it.
Shaking my head, I pull the door again, and fail to close it.
“I am not with her.”
“Yeah. Whatever; thanks for clearing that up. Can I go now?” I try to sound indifferent but he sees through it.
“I am not with her.” His voice is sturdy and firm. “Why were you fighting with her?”
“Why does it matter?” He gives me a look that says he still wants an answer. “I came to talk to her, things got heated, she attacked me. Now can I go? You got what you wanted, Crash.” I see a flinch when I use his club name, but right now I do not care.
His hand drops from my car door with a sigh, so I take the opportunity to pull it closed, and then start the engine.
With one more look out the window, I see Logan standing there with his hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans, something he used to do in high school. His shoulders are hunched up as he watches me.
My teeth sink into my bottom lip to fight off the tears that want to run free, so I drive off, not letting him see how upset I really am.
On my drive home I blink away the images of Logan holding Val again, of him calling her ‘baby’ like he used to. He says that are not together but fuck, it sure looked like it.
Arriving home, I park in the drive next to my aunt’s Volkswagen Beetle, her pride and joy. Climbing out, I wince as my body twinges in pain from the fight. As far as my first fight goes, I think I got a few good hits in.
Pushing through the front door, I hear the familiar clacking of Glory’s claws as she runs to me.
“Oh, my sweet baby. I missed you.” I run my fingers through her fur, her tongue lapping at my face, making me giggle, but she whines knowing that something is wrong.
She makes everything feel better. Glory came to me when she was ten weeks old. She was taken by a family who did not know how big she was going to get, so I offered to take her instead. My aunt loved that I got her.
My aunt calls out as I stand up.
“Stevie, is that you?”
“Yeah. Coming.” I drop my purse on the chair as I pass, and go to the kitchen where I know I will find my aunt. No doubt baking or stirring some herbal concoction.
The house smells heavenly, and it intensifies as I step into the kitchen.
“Now, that smells good.” Glory walks over to her chair at the kitchen table and jumps up. She is spoiled.
She must hear the little wobble in my voice, as she spins around, the smile dropping from her face.
“What happened? Who do I need to chase down and poison?” A laugh mixed with a sob breaks free.
She wipes her hands as she comes toward me, then pulls me into her arms. She smells of lavender and it makes me feel safe and loved. While she holds me, I tell her everything, letting all the words escape me so they do not fester.
If there’s one thing we’ve always lived by, it’s not letting emotions fester, because they rot and make things ugly. “I am sorry, my girl. It is sad what has happened to Valarie, but that is not on you, it was her choices that led her down this path.” All I do is nod.
“Do you need any help?” I ask, gesturing at the bubbling pans on the stove .
“You could open my jars for me, they have finished sterilizing.” I offer her a smile.
