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“Dreaming of you,” he slurs.
Rolling my eyes. Drunk Ciarán is a cheeseball.
It sort of makes me lose my caution of him, but not enough to let him in. Not yet.
“Get fucked,” I snap instead. “You branded me like a fucking cow, Ciarán. You marked me like I’m your property. You took me in a power play that was desperate, and I’m not interested in this game you’re playing with me.”
His expression turns curious. I know he latched onto the words I was quite clear to make. “Summer, I know...” He stumbles slightly, bracing himself against the window frame with a grimace. “I know I hurt you. But I’ve changed, I swear. Just let me explain.”
“Changed?” I scoff, wrapping my arms around myself as the thunder finally rumbles overhead. “You think getting drunk and showing up at my doorstep is proof that you’ve changed? What a joke! And changed from what exactly? I don’t even know.”
“Look, I’ll do anything,” he says, his voice low and shaky. “Just give me a chance to make things right.”
“Make things right?” I laugh bitterly. “There’s nothing you can do to change what you did. I’ll have your name forever etched into my skin.”
“That’s the point,” he mumbles. “You’re mine, Tinks.”
Tears form in the corners of his eyes. It would be almost heartbreaking if it weren’t for the fact that he was pissed as a fart.
“Get out of here, Ciarán,” I say wearily, my heart pounding as I take a step closer. “Come back when you’re sober.”
“Not leaving.”
“Go!”
“Not leaving til you tell me you forgive me.”
“Well, you’re going to have a long wait then.” Folding my arms over my chest, I glare at him.
He smiles. It’s slow, lazy and makes my heart skip a beat.
“I can wait. Got nowhere else to be.”
He slides down the wall and leans his head back.
“Fuck’s sake,” I mutter, reaching up for the window. Unlocking it, I turn the handle and open it before slamming it shut hard to make my point.
He waves two fingers at me as I pull the curtain closed. Turning from the window with a smile that I can’t quite keep from appearing, I press my lips together to stop myself from giggling.
I have absolutely nowhere else to be either for three days. It’s the annual inventory at the store, and we are on a skeleton staff for the next few days. I worked it last year, so I opted out this year at full pay for whatever shift I would’ve been down for. Three whole days with nothing to do, nowhere to go, no one to see, with enough food, water and books to keep me happy for a very long time.
If he wants to sit out there like a dumbfuck, that’s up to him.
“Hope it fucking rains on you!” I shout, knowing this is now a test, whether he knows it or not. If he is genuinely sorry and not just saying it to get in here to either fuck me again or kill me or whatever, because let’s face it, I don’t know fuck all about him except his name and that he likes sex in public places and violent acts, then he will sit there come what may and hopefully sober up. Not that I know what I’ll do when, or if, he stays there until he’s sober, but I know it’s a start.
20
SUMMER
The thunder cracks overhead, lightning flashing violently.
It’s been three hours, and we’ve yet to see a spot of rain, only these ominous rumbles.
Ciarán is still sitting outside. He hasn’t uttered a peep since he slumped down the wall. Fuck knows if he passed out or what. I’m not going to check on him.
Biting my lip, I worry then that maybe he’s dead and I need to go check on him. Or perhaps he’s playing dead, so I will, and then the power I’m trying to exert over him will be shot to hell.
Power.
