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“I told you to stop, remember? I fucking told you to pump the brakes on your assholery or you’d cross a line,” I continue, seeing red. “Guess what, that line was tonight. And you fucking crossed it.”
Somehow I find it within myself to loosen up my hold a little and let him breathe.
“Let go of me,” he wheezes.
“No,” I bite out. “Not until I make you understand something very important, you stubborn little fuck.”
His eyes are furious and I bet mine are too.
But he doesn’t know the level of rage that I have right now, the depths of it, the breadth, the height.
Because if he did, he’d lose that look and fucking cower at my feet.
“You’re gonna lose her,” I tell him. “Forever. For… fucking… ever.” I can’t help but squeeze his throat at every pause back there. “She’s trying, do you understand that? She’s fucking trying to make amends. She’s fucking trying to tell you that she cares about you. That she still loves you and would do anything to get back together with you. It doesn’t matter to her that you’ve become a useless piece of shit who’s only capable of hurting her. She doesn’t care about that. All she cares about is that she loves you and she made a mistake. Because you’re so perfect, aren’t you? So fucking perfect that you don’t even realize what you’re throwing away.”
His breaths are sharp and deep and he’s clenching his jaw so tightly that it looks like he may be doing himself some serious damage.
Good.
Great.
Saves me the trouble of breaking his fucking face.
“So you need to get over your jealousy and actually see what’s in front of you. You need to get your head out of your stinking fucking ass and grovel. Do you understand? You fucking grovel at her feet like your life depends on it. You lick her feet, yeah? You lick the fucking ground that she walks on. You lick the fucking dirt. You treat her like the precious, priceless gift she is or I’m gonna kill you. I’m gonna choke the life out of you and I’m not even kidding. So get your shit together. Right the fuck now.”
I keep holding his throat for a few more seconds.
Just to drive my point home.
Just to make sure that he got it.
When it looks like he does or at least I think that he does, I let him go.
I step back and watch him slump against the wall.
Then I bring out my phone and send him a text.
Sitting on the nightstand just by his side, his phone lights up and he frowns.
“That’s her number,” I tell him and he focuses back on me. “You’re going to call her and you’re going to say that you’re sorry. And then you’re going to fuckingpromiseher that you won’t ever do what you did tonight. And Lucas,” I step up to him again, staring him in the eyes, “if you don’t, I won’t leave you standing like I’m doing tonight.”
Then I turn around, intending to leave.
But I only make it to the door when he says, “Yeah, because you’ve always been so much stronger than me.”
There’s a bitterness in his tone that I haven’t heard before and I turn around with my hand on the knob.
He’s moved away from the wall now and is panting as he says, “I knew it.”
“Knew what?”
“That you wanted her.”
“What?”
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Beforeyou ever told me.”
I freeze then.
