Ask Me Why(71)

“No, Braelyn. I can’t. We’re not the same person. You’re dealing with some shit I cannot see. It sounds like exaggerated bullshit.”

My entire body wracks with a broken sob. “You’re being cruel.”

“That’s just me, babe. Thought you’d gotten used to it.”

“No, not like this.”

I’d almost forgotten how terrible it felt to have his anger targeted at me. My shields are lowered, his blows striking in the weakest areas. I’m too exposed. He couldn’t care less.

He tosses his hands in the air. “Where the hell is this coming from?”

My stomach is caving in, everything inside of me tumbling into a black hole. “I assumed the worst, Brance. I’m not a normal worry-wart. I’ve been through hell trying to get over the accident. You and Ollie are the main reasons I can smile again. But when you didn’t answer or show up? The hole in my chest immediately burst open. I’m not healed. This proves I never will be.”

His gaze is a laser searing through what’s left of my soul. “You better not abandon my child over some stupid bullshit. You’ve made a lot of promises.”

The thought alone is a punch to my belly. “I’d never leave Ollie.”

“But me? You don’t give a shit about me.” His sneer is coated in contempt, but I’m not backing down.

I take a turn in the chest pounding, thumping my own. “Do you see me standing here? I’m going nuclear over you. Get that through your thick skull.”

Brance scrubs a palm over his face. “But I’m fine. All in one piece. You can stop the downward spiral.”

My laugh is bitter. “It doesn’t work that way up here.” I grind the heel of my palm into my temple. “All I see is you dead on the side of the road. I-I just can’t handle that.”

“Go take a walk, and we’ll fix this when you’re calm.”

“No. There’s no solving this.”

He’s in front of me, yet miles away. “Don’t be dramatic. This was a minor hiccup.”

I look to the ceiling and beg for patience. This man is more stubborn than a jackass. “For you, Brance. To me, this was a major collision.”

“What are you suggesting? We call the whole thing off?”

“Yes, exactly. I’m permanently scarred. This was a mistake. I don’t belong with anyone. I can’t go through that again.”

“You’re a fucking coward.”

I can see Brance in the courtroom, mowing down vulnerable witnesses and bending their will. I’d never wish this type of rant on anyone.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you. All you do is hide behind an asshole mask. But you’re more scared than me.”

He swings his arms out wide. “What the fuck do you think I’m doing right now? Fighting over some crazy shit. I’ve been trying to put myself out there for you. This is the fucking thanks I get.”

“You’re so arrogant. It’s not all about you. When you realize that, things will go much smoother.”

“Guess you won’t be around to find out.”

“Must you be so cold? We shared something special. At least for me.”

“You fucking started this. Not sure what else you expect.”

He’s a master at avoiding, deflecting anything worth feeling. I shouldn’t be surprised by this reaction. Yet, his words are a lash from an iron whip.

“Real feelings are forming for me, Brance. It’s better to stop things now before this gets more complicated.”

His smirk is nasty. I brace myself for the words swirling over his tongue.

“You almost had me fooled. But I guess this was meant to end in disaster. That’s almost too bad. I was enjoying you.”

I sniff, regretting so much of this already. It’s only temporary. The numb is taking effect. Soon, I won’t feel anything but the cold comfort of my mistakes.

“Bran—”

He waves me off. “Just go, Braelyn. I can’t stand to look at you anymore.”

With that final blow, the walls tumble down. With tears streaking my vision, I grab my purse and run for the door. With the twisted knob in my hand, I give one last peek over my shoulder.

“For what it’s worth, I care about you.”

“That’s your own damn fault.”





Brance



Bully



I rifle through the stacks of documents strewn across my desk. The vice around my ribs cranks tighter. My irritation spikes. Why is there so much shit scattered everywhere? With a flexed arm, I sweep all of the contents onto the floor. My monitor lands with a crack, the keyboard bouncing off its screen. Sticky notes and pens launch across the room. Papers and folders rain down on me in a sloppy blizzard.

Fuck this shit.

“Kathy!” I bellow through the closed door.

There’s no instant response. I count to five. A snarl curls my lip. The sleek shine of my desk mocks me, reflecting light and memories of her. I smash a fist against the gleaming wood top.

“Kathy!” My bark has more bite this time.

A slow creak alerts me to her presence. She peeks inside, not crossing the threshold. “Yes, sir?”

“What took so long? Get in here.” I’m two seconds away from snapping my fingers.