Until You (Fall Away, #1.5)(31)

But she also saw all of the ugliness and confusion.

She saw everything that made me a loser.

And that’s when I knew what she was doing. She was playing a game with me. Looking at me, getting me to nearly lose it.

Taking a deep breath, I turned away to walk out. “No one else is complaining so why don’t you shut up and leave it alone?”

“Leave the key,” she shot back, and I stopped.

I exhaled a bitter laugh. “You know, I underestimated you. You haven’t cried yet, have you?”

“Because of the rumor you started this week? Not a chance.”

Yep, she thought those pictures were my idea.

“Please, like I even have to resort to spreading rumors. Your cross-country pals did that. And their pictures. Everyone drew their own conclusions.” And I walked back over to her and got in her face. “But I’m boring you. I guess I have to step up my game.”

The threat hung in the air between us.

Her lips pursed, and her eyes must’ve burned. They were shooting flames.

She was ready to lose it. In 3-2-1…

“What did I ever do to you?” she screamed.

I shrugged my shoulders, not willing to tell her the truth. “I don’t know why you ever thought you did something. You were clingy, and I got sick of putting up with it is all.”

She wasn’t clingy. She was dishonest and unreliable.

“That’s not true. I wasn’t clingy.” She choked on a breath. “You were over at my house as much as I was at yours. We were friends.” She looked at me with such sadness. Her face was tight, and tears pooled in her eyes.

All a f*cking lie.

I smiled, but it burned with more anger than amusement. “Yeah, keep livin’ the dream.”

“I hate you!”

And there it was.

“Good!” I shouted, bearing down on her, my heart beating wildly. “Finally! Because it’s been a long time since I could stand the sight of you.” And I slammed the palm of my hand against the wall near her head.

She flinched, and my heart did a nosedive straight to my stomach.

Shit.

I’d scared her.

Why the hell did I just do that?

I backed off an inch.

I’d wanted to hit something but not her. And I didn’t want her to think I’d even come close to doing that. Ever. I’d never hit a girl and would never hit one in my life.

Goddamn it. She wasn’t looking at me now.

Things were never this bad between us.

She used to turn-tail and run. Before France. Or before she knew she was leaving for France, anyway.

And when she’d bow out, I’d power down.

I could be satisfied.

But now…now, I wasn’t the stronger one. She was meeting going head to head with me and taking the challenge.

We both stood there, and she finally looked up to meet my eyes. Something passed in the blue ocean of hers. Despair? Regret?

And finally, resolution.

My eyes were still trained on her, waiting for her to say something, when she turned around to look out the window.

“Oh, look. It’s the police,” she said in a light voice. “I wonder why they’re here.”

I looked over her shoulder to see two black and whites, lights flashing and parked in front of my house. A couple of officers climbed up the incline into my yard, looking around at the chaos.

Son of a bitch.

There was no time to call them when I entered her house. She must’ve filed a complaint earlier.

Right now, you’re looking at her like you want to tie her up and give her a big, fat spanking.

Madoc’s stupid assessment was true. She definitely deserved a huge spanking.

“I promise you will be in tears by next week.” I was going to do what I had to do. My tone was calm, decisive, and final, and I left the room, already making my plans.

“Leave the key,” she shouted after me.

But I never do what I’m told.





After I cleared everyone out of my house, the cops wrote me a huge ass ticket and called my mother.

But it all affected me about as much as war in the Middle East.

Trouble with the cops? Old news.

Getting squeezed for cash I didn’t have? Child’s play.

Jax and Madoc helped me clean up the house before my mom got home, and then I showered and went to bed, letting Jax crash in the spare bedroom.

Tate was the only thing on my mind right now. Any inkling that what I was thinking of doing might be going too far was shoved out of my head. Did she really set out to hurt me? No. Was I setting out to hurt her? Definitely.

But it was all a game.

She didn’t care, and anything we shared years ago was nothing to her. Every time I pushed her, it wasn’t really about making her feel bad. It was about proving to myself that my head and heart weren’t in her control.

And if I could rip her from my head and my heart, kill everything good I felt about her, then I was strong.

“Hey, K.C.?” I walked up to the concession counter at Spotlight Cinemas where Tate’s best friend worked. “How’s it going?”

She looked up from her book and narrowed her eyes. “Don’t talk to me, Shit-For-Brains.”

“Ouch.” I smiled and gave her a condescending nod. “Good for you.”