AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I scoff. “Other jobs don’t carry that kind of risk, Abram! Especially not normal jobs! I should have just taken that fucking office job when I had the chance.”
He rises from the bed and pulls a chair over from the corner of the room. “I’m not moving from this spot until I know that you’re safe. You still have a head injury. I’m not just going to say good luck and leave you here.”
“Don’t you have some pretty important shit to worry about after your club got shot up? Isn’t that something that needs to be addressed? Aside from how fucking angry I am that this happened, you have a lot of people to apologize to,” I hiss, my voice faltering as my head throbs.
“How about you don’t fucking worry about how I handle business? You need someone here. It’s dangerous to leave you here on your own,” he replies.
“I’m a part of your business! I’m an employee of yours and nothing more. You need to go make things right with Ariella and Mandi, even if you have nothing to gain from apologizing to them,” I say, feeling the energy change in the air as I close my last sentence.
Abram is silent for at least ten seconds. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asks, his tone a combination of hurt and anger.
“It means that you’re just here because you have some kind of weird fixation on me because we had sex. Mandi and Ariella need to know that you’re going to make things right for them even if you’re not going to get anything out of it,” I reply, noticing the little white spots that had formed on my fingernails since I was admitted to the hospital. I haven’t looked in the mirror yet, but I’m sure I’m a wreck.
He says nothing.
“You want to be this guardian figure to everyone, but the only people who get your protection are people who can give themselves to you. That’s why you own a strip club. You’re not the good guy you think you are,” I taunt.
His stare grows more intense, but he still says nothing.
“Do you think you get to claim the moral high ground because you’re not arguing with me or something? You’re literally the reason I got hurt!” I shout, disregarding the pounding in my head. I need to get Abram out of my sight before I explode.
“Suit yourself, then,” he replies after a brief pause.
I breathe a sigh of relief as he leaves my bedroom, but I never hear him close the front door. I wait a moment before I say anything; I don’t want to make a complete ass of myself, even if only to preserve my pride.
When the door doesn’t close, I roll my eyes and shout into the living room.
“Abram, get the fuck out of my apartment!”
I wait for a reply, some overly congratulatory, dry quip from the ego of a wounded man.
“Abram!”
“You need someone to care for you, and even if your brother made you fend for yourself a lot, I’m not going anywhere,” he responds as he begins to run the water in the kitchen sink. “Do you eat pasta?”
I’m furious beyond my comprehension. How fucking dare he accuse my brother of not looking out for me whenhe’sthe one who ordered him to work long nights constantly. He’s such a fucking self-righteous prick.
I don’t respond. I simply curl up into my bed, feeling a small bit of relief as I smell the scent of sweet detergent on my sheets instead of the industrial, clinical smell of my hospital bed. Even if I can’t get Abram to leave, being in my own space feels like a vacation compared to where I’ve been. No matter what, I need to make the best of it.
