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Her eyes go directly to mine, that blank, lifeless stare still filling them. However, they are brighter today, getting closer to that beguiling hazel color that has pulled me in from the start.
“Hi,” I say, like the idiot that I am.
She says nothing. She just gives me a blank stare without blinking, without moving. It’s almost as if she is an angel frozen in time.
“I, um...” I clear my throat, trying not to sound like a nervous buffoon. “I was thinking that we could take a walk through the garden. Maybe get some fresh air,” I mumble, hoping that maybe that would make her eyes light up, make her cheeks brighten or her mouth open.
But my words do nothing. All of this gentle bullshit talk that my mother gave me has done nothing. I’m an impatient man and I will not wait for this woman to die here on my watch. I will force the life back into her if I fucking have to.
“All right,” I say finally, my tone more frustrated now. “Have it your way,” I snap.
I grab her by the arms and yank her up. When I stand from the bed, I pull her with me and throw her over my shoulder. We make it all the way to the doorway before she speaks, her voice cracked and angry sounding.
“No,” she says, short and to the point, but I don’t care. I don’t listen.
She just finally spoke for the first time in three weeks and it was her fighting back. I couldn’t be more pleased than I am right now. I reach for the doorknob to turn it and open the door, but she stops me by smacking her hands against my back in refusal.
“I said no, goddammit!” Her raspy, small voice hisses, causing me to smile wild.
I set her down on her feet, pressing her against the door with my chest as my hands go to her face, holding it and forcing her to look at me. When she does, her eyes are bright and angry. I finally have her back.
“There you are,” I whisper, leaning forward to press my lips against hers.
I brush my mouth along hers a couple of times, trying to coax her open. When she does, I dip my tongue inside, but she then surprises me by biting down, catching my tongue between her teeth and drawing blood.
“What the hell?” I growl, snapping back as I frown down at her, her eyes wild with rage now.
She doesn’t say anything, she just starts slapping at me, her hands flying at any part of my body that they can reach. They land on my face, on my chest. They go to my hair and grip it while her foot rears back and goes right for my shin. Even though it hurts slightly, I don’t move. I let her take all of her anger out on me until I feel like she is winded. Until she is gasping for air and grinding her teeth.
“You egotistical, manipulative son of a bitch!” She roars, lunging at me again, but this time, I step back.
When she goes to hit me again, I grab her hands and pin them to her sides, pressing my forehead against hers just as an anguished cry tears from her throat.
“I fucking hate you!” She wails, but I don’t care.
No amount of pain or venom she inflicts on me can bring me down. My little fireball is finally back.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
Lori
When he pins my arms down to my sides, I can’t stop the cry that leaves my lips. It’s like it has been building and brewing inside of me for the last few weeks. Finally ripping free as he holds me against his warm, solid body. He’s wearing his glasses today, his beard longer and hair all disheveled. He’s not even in his usual designer suit. Not to mention how gentle he was with me and said all those familiar words that jolted me out of my depression and brought me here. Here, where I stand with the weight of this agonizing anger.
How dare he? How dare he try to fool me with his sweet tactics. What kind of sick, twisted and insane bastard does he think he is?
“I’m as insane as they come, baby. Especially when it comes to you,” he groans and it takes me a minute to realize that I said all of that out loud.
It takes me even longer to realize that he called me baby, which only makes me even angrier. In fact, it makes me see red.
I rip one of my hands away from his hold and slap him hard across the face, the sound echoing throughout the room. His jaw ticks in response, his head jerked to the side before it slowly turns and faces me, a small fire building in his blurry gaze.
“You don’t need to make me feel special anymore, Marco,” I hiss into his face. “You don’t need to build me up only to drag me down farther. I’m already suffering. I already want to die. So why don’t you just fucking do it already, huh? Just get it over with now! I want you to! "Tears blur my vision even more as I start pushing and swatting at him, ready for this all to end.
I don’t want to be numb anymore. I don’t want to be angry or sad or feel pain. I don’t want his dark touch or his sweet words. I want it all to be over with. Right fucking now. So when my hands start slapping at his thighs and I feel the outline of his gun in his pants, I think quickly and move fast. I grab the gun from his pocket and aim it at him, stepping back against the door as his hands raise in defense.
“You don’t want to kill me, princess. That’s not you. If you want to hurt me, then fine. Hurt me, but you’re not a killer and if you do this, it will only make you feel worse,” he warns, his body moving cautiously towards me.
“You’re right,” I say, lowering the gun as he sighs, but then aiming it at my chest a second later.
