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“Hungry?” I smile, handing him a plate.
He shrugs but starts eating right away without a thank you or any sort of appreciation. Though I’m not the least bit surprised anymore. He’s an ungrateful bastard, to say the least.
For a while, we eat in silence. When our plates are empty, I clear the table, then refill our coffees. I’m happy he’s drinking something other than whiskey for now.
“I saw a security guard position at the mall on a job board when I was scrolling online yesterday. Offered good hours and benefits, too,” I mention as I begin rinsing our plates. My cheeks immediately heat because I realize my slipup. Mason was the one who found out he lied about his job and wasn’t actually a correctional officer. I hadn’t said anything to Weston, knowing he’d be livid. While I was angry at the time, Mason was right about one thing. I do need to be careful.
Immediately, Weston’s eyes lock onto mine. “What do you mean? A security guard?”
I shrug nonchalantly. “Just something I saw in passing. It’s the same thing as what you were doing, isn’t it?” I ask, playing stupid so he doesn’t see through my lie.
He pounds his fist on the table, making me jump. “What? You don’t trust me? Don’t trust that I’m actually looking for a fucking job? It’s only been a couple of days, for fuck’s sake. I don’t need you job hunting for me, Sophie.” The venom in his tone slices right through me.
Though my heart beats rapidly in my chest, I try to suck in a deep breath and calm it. “Sorry, I just thought I’d pass on the information I saw.” I force out a smile, hoping he thinks I’m being genuine.
Narrowing his eyes, Weston watches me like I’m his prey. “You know damn well it’s not the same thing, don’t you?”
I’ve always been a bad liar and wish I wasn’t so transparent. “Okay, yeah, I did. I know you were a security officer, but it’s not a big deal, Weston,” I quickly rush out with a sincere look. “We had just met, and I’m sure you just misspoke about your job or were trying to impress me.” I push off the kitchen counter and walk toward him, hoping to dissolve the anger I see brewing. “Baby, it doesn’t matter to me. You could shovel shit for all I care.”
“It was that guy, wasn’t it? Mason. Is that his fucking name? What else did he tell you about me?” He stands from the chair so fast it falls to the floor.
“No.” My eyes go wide, and my adrenaline spikes as I step back.
“You’re fucking lying!” Weston screams and takes his mug and slams it against the floor, shattering the porcelain into a hundred pieces. He takes a step closer but trips over the table leg, causing everything on top to go crashing over. “You’re a fucking lying bitch!” he shouts in my face as I cower backward.
He’s losing it, and I don’t know how to calm him down when he gets like this. He picks up a chair and throws it across the room. It slams into the wall, causing a clock to fall and break.
“Weston, please,” I beg, trying to steady my voice and reason with him. I suck in a breath, not wanting him to see how scared I am, but it’s useless the louder he gets. My body shakes, and I’m cursing myself for bringing up jobs because I knew better. Weston throws his fists around, breaking through the drywall, then kicks the back door so hard, he leaves a dent in it. His knuckles are dripping with blood, and I just want him to stop so he doesn’t hurt himself further, or me.
I walk closer, begging him to stop. I softly reach for Weston, and he rears back in his blinded rage and all I see is his fist. It happens so fast I don’t have time to react before it hits my face. At the moment, everything goes black, and I’m blinded by pain. I’m dazed, confused, and hurt…again. I fall to my knees, holding my cheek. There’s nothing I can do but cry and leave the room, so I do both. I stand, stumbling on my feet, unable to focus and rush to my purse to grab my keys.
Weston realizes what I’m doing and stalks after me, yanking my arm until I fall on the ground. He’s too strong for me to fight and throws me around like a rag doll. My knees hit the carpet, and when I look up at him, he’s smiling maniacally.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he hisses.
I don’t say anything, but if looks could kill, his ass would be laid out right now. Too bad he’s twice my size.
“So Sophie,” he says, twirling my keys around his finger. “Did you fuck him? I bet you did. Probably fucked his gay-looking friend, too. You’re the town whore, aren’t you?”
