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Law pulled me to him and stroked my cheek. “I won’t let this consume you. Your heart is too beautiful.”
“You know nothing of my heart!” I yelled, pushing off his chest. As I made my way out of the old building I added, “Or what’s left of it.”
“Everything is left of it, it’s just a little shadowed right now.” At his words I gripped my hands into white fists, unsure of what I was going to do. The tug of war between Law and me had snapped. He acted all knowing, but he was veiled. I wasn’t shadowed; I was utterly consumed. The door to hell had opened and I’d fallen through head first. I was living among the fire and brimstone and he thought there was hope?
“I think we have our wires crossed, Law,” I gritted, spinning around to glare at him. “I made a mistake with you, and that’s my fault, so let me clear it up. There is nothing between us. Just because I let myself give in to my self-loathing and misery for a few moments when you were around doesn’t mean I like you. In fact, I hate you. I hate all guys like you. Our kiss disgusted me and the sooner you get that through your skull, the sooner you can stop skulking around like some fucking lost dog, got it?” The words cut through me like a chainsaw on a mission. They had a mind of their own and were using my mouth like a puppet.
I saw pain in Law’s eyes, sharp and clear like the sky after rain. When the pain disappeared, I swallowed the guilt.
“You’re right Nami,” Law said. His voice was hoarse, like he’d been coughing. Only seconds ago it had been full and robust, like usual. Now he sounded sick. “We do have our wires crossed. You’ve misread pity for concern. I pity you, Nami. I don’t care for you.”
And I thought my words had hurt. Law’s statement absolutely eviscerated me. I knew it wasn’t fair. What I had said to him was cheap and meant only to wound. I didn’t realize how accustomed I’d grown to his blanketing presence until he’d taken it away. Now I was bitter and cold and reality was once again shoved in my face.
I licked my dry lips, trying to do something until words came to my head. I didn’t know how to respond to him. He’d hurt me, but I didn’t want him to know that. I didn’t want him to think he had any sway with me. I didn’t want to acknowledge that he had any sway with me.
“Well,” I eventually said, voice cracking despite my best efforts. “So glad we got that cleared up.” I spun around and went out to the parking lot.
I stomped through the empty storefront, rejoicing as my feet crunched over bits of broken glass. When I made it outside, it had just begun to snow. Thick, puffy snowflakes landed and for a moment I was reminded of Raskol. He loved the snow. I shook the thought loose and pulled out my keys, ready to go home and drink this shitty day into oblivion.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I jumped at his voice, dropping my keys. Sighing, I got to my knees to search under my car. For someone who had been about to commit murder only moments before, I sure wasn’t very composed. With my hand aimlessly grappling under the car, I said to Law, “Why the fuck are you still here?”
“I don’t like how we left things.” Law leaned lackadaisically against my car, like he’d done so many times before, watching me search for my keys with bored interest.
“We didn’t leave things,” I corrected. “We ended things. Whatever this fucked up thing was is now over.” I growled in frustration. Where the fuck were my keys? I stuck my head closer to the gravel, trying to see under my car. Just as I was about to meld my head with gravel, I heard the sound of jangling keys. I shot up so fast I nearly banged my face against the side of my car. Law smirked at me, casually dangling my keys from his fingers.
“How?” I asked, stunned.
“Fast reflexes,” he responded, as if that explained everything. I glowered, reaching out to snatch them from his stupid fingers. In an instant, he pulled back. “No, I told you, I don’t like how we left things.”
“And I told you, we didn’t leave things.” I reached for my keys again but he closed his fist tight around them. “We ended them.”
“Get in the car Nami.” Law gestured to my beat up Honda.
“Best idea you’ve had yet.”
“And drive me to my hotel.”
“Then you go and say that,” I said sarcastically. Law clicked the button to open my car. Reluctantly I slid into the driver’s seat. I watched with mute indignation as he walked around the front to the passenger seat. Even though he had my keys, I felt an urge to lock the door. I didn’t though, because I was simply a helpless observer in my own life.
Law said jump, and I jumped. Morris said strip, and I stripped. When Law handed me the keys, I put them into the ignition and drove, trying not to think about the melting ice cube that had become my soul.
I pulled up to Law’s hotel and said, “Your personal taxi has arrived at its destination.”
“You’re coming up with me, Nami.” Law sighed, like I was the one putting him out.
“Hmm,” I mused, turning the ignition off but keeping the car on. I put a finger to my lips, as if pretending to really consider what Law had said. “I think I’d rather drink battery acid.”
“It’s time you learned about me, Nami.” Law’s usual smooth brogue adopted a sober, almost chilling intonation. “The real me.”
“Said every serial killer ever.” I turned my ignition back on. “No thanks.”
“I have information that can help you ruin Morris,” Law said, the way someone might say “I have candy” to a four-year-old. Glaring, I turned off the ignition once and for all.
“Spill.”
“Not until we’re upstairs,” Law stated bluntly. “I’m not about to give you this information and have you fuck off without a thank you.”
I scoffed. “You don’t strike me as the guy who needs a thank you card.”
