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And now, after that awful night, he hardly touches me. The dull ache in my arm reminds me of his touch. I’m surprised he didn’t wash his hands right after like I’m dirty.
He was too busy destroying the phone I bought, the prick. Money down the drain. I wanted to kill him right there in the parking lot, in front of anybody who passed by. Running him down with the car, crushing him the way he’s crushing me, even if he doesn’t know it.
“You hungry, princess?” His voice floats in from the other side of the closed door.
I grit my teeth rather than telling him to go fuck himself for calling me that. He knows it gets under my skin, which is the only reason he keeps using the word. If I show him how much I hate it, he’s only going to do it more. “Yeah, I was thinking about fixing something in a little bit,” I reply as evenly as I can.
He snorts. “Right. Like the princess is going to cook her own food.”
I shouldn’t do it, but I can’t help myself. This snide son of a bitch. I march over to the door and fling it wider. He’s standing there, hands in his pockets, smirking like this was exactly the reaction he was looking for. I fucking hate him. “You can go fuck yourself, you know that?”
“Ouch, such language.”
“What? Are you going to tell your boss on me? Because that’s what you do, isn’t it? You scamper back to him like the little lapdog you are and report every fucking thing I do. Apparently, some people call that a job nowadays.”
That did it. His eyes aren’t twinkling anymore. “Watch it, kid.”
“No, you watch it. For one thing, you’re not even that much older than me, so cut the bullshit, okay?” When all he does is smirk, I have to dig my nails into my palms to keep myself centered. Otherwise, I might use those nails to claw his eyes out. “For another thing, I know how to cook for myself. I know how to do a hell of a lot of things, and you want to know why? Because until my father found me, it was just my mom and me, and I was home alone most of the time. If I was hungry, I had to cook for myself. If there was a mess, I had to clean it up. In fact, I did most of the chores around the house because my mother was so tired from working two jobs that she never had the energy. I did the laundry, the dishes, scrubbed the bathroom. I made sure something was waiting for her to eat when she got home from a shift.” I have to stop. I’m either going to scream or cry if I don’t. How dare he? He doesn’t know the first thing about what my life used to be like.
His jaw twitches. “Do you want an award?”
I’m pretty sure I’m breaking the skin on my palms. The stinging pain is almost welcome. “No, asshole. I don’t want an award. I want a little respect. I wasn’t raised with money. There were years when my clothes for school all came from Goodwill, and even then, Mom had to save up while she went to work in shoes with holes in the bottoms. So you can fuck yourself with this princess bullshit.”
I can’t even believe he needs to think about this. If I were him, I’d be apologizing right now. Maybe even on my hands and knees. But no, he’s going to stand there, looking me up and down, with his lips pursed tight like he’s actually thinking it over. Like this is up for debate or something.
“Fine. No more princess bullshit.”
Wow. I’m almost too surprised to speak. “But the way you talk to me still makes it sound like I’m a big joke to you. Do you think that could change, too?”
I should have known better. “Don’t push your luck, kid.”
“You and my father can go to hell.”
All of a sudden, he’s maybe two inches away from me, lowering his head until his face is almost touching mine. “Now that, I’m not going to let slide. You can call me whatever you want; you can curse me out until your face turns blue. Go ahead. But you’re not going to disrespect him.”
“Are you for real? Do you have a crush on him? He’s not here. He’s not going to give you a Milk-Bone for being such a good boy.”
“How ungrateful can you be?” he snarls. “He did all of this for you. He got you into this school. He got you this place to live in. Do you know how many people your age would kill to be in your shoes?”
“Oh, right. Except they have to be okay with being shadowed everywhere they go, right? Having every single move they make watched and reported on. Yeah, I’m sure they would be totally okay with that.”
I wish he wasn’t close enough to feel his warmth seeping into my skin. I don’t know if I want to kill him or bury my face in his neck and inhale his scent. Jesus, what is he doing to me? Why can’t I get him out of my system? I know he doesn’t want me. I know he thinks I’m a pathetic joke. Why would I still want him?
For one long, breathless moment, there’s nothing but the two of us staring into each other’s eyes. Daring each other. Seeing who will make the next move. My nerves are buzzing, my brain is humming. There’s nothing in the world but him and me, and the sound of blood rushing in my ears. I can’t help but think we’re on the edge of something. If only I knew what was going through his head.
His eyes dart away from mine, grazing my lips before darting up again. “You’re right. Every move you make is going to be watched and reported. So you should keep that in mind going forward—otherwise, something tells me things could get a lot worse for you.”
An icy shiver runs down my spine. It’s not so much what he said but how he said it. “What do you know?”
“Know?”
“You made it sound like you know something I don’t.”
He blinks rapidly, and not for the first time do I notice how unfair it is that his eyelashes are so thick and dark. I’d kill for lashes like his. “You shouldn’t read so much into everything.” He stands up straighter again, clearing his throat before backing away. “I’m making spaghetti. I’ve put in enough effort today.”
That’s fine. He can cook for me if he wants to. If he thinks I’m a spoiled brat, maybe I should really start acting like one. I can make him wish he had never treated me like this.
“Let me know when it’s finished. I’ll eat in here.” I slam the door between us, then finally slump forward with my hands on my knees as I try to catch my breath. My heart’s pounding, my head’s spinning, and my nipples are tight enough to make me wince. I’m so wet I can feel it spreading past my lips and soaking into my panties.
