Bane (Sinners of Saint #4)(88)
“That’s not for you to decide, Bane.” Bane. “You betrayed me. Not exactly a concept that’s foreign to me, but I’m getting real good at cutting my losses.”
I moved over to her, losing control, losing her. That was the worst part. Knowing that I was losing her, and that she had every right to kick me out of her life after what I’d done. I crouched down beside the bed so that we were looking at each other, only she was still staring at the clock. I flipped the motherfucker down and snapped my fingers.
Yup. Definitely losing my shit.
“Hey. Listen.” I tried to grab her wrist so she would look at me, and that was a big mistake. She jumped up and out of the bed and pushed me. I didn’t move an inch, but the second time she did it, I stood up and took a step back. She pounced on me, slapping me across the face.
Okay, I deserved that.
Jesse swiveled on her heel, stepped into her Keds, and grabbed her keys. She was wearing Gail’s clothes, a floaty black dress that poured down all the way to her ankles. She got up and headed for the door.
I chased her, realizing that it was the first time I’d ever chased after something. Anything.
My whole life, people had come to me.
For pot.
For money.
For sex.
For networking. Hey, being the only guy who was from the wrong side of the tracks in a town that had no tracks had its appeal.
It was the first time I was desperate not to lose someone, and she was slipping through my fingers like dust. I decided to keep my hands to myself and not touch her unless she ran straight into traffic, but that didn’t stop me from hunting her down. But as I was chasing her, it occurred to me that speaking would be a good idea at this point, too. But where would I start? The contract? Artem? Us? I didn’t know which part bothered her the most.
“Jesse, fuck, Jesse. Stop. Just stop for one second. This bullshit thing with Artem wasn’t my fault. He was my counselor for a while, and he used to come to our house to make sure my mom fed me and clothed me and didn’t use me as a human ashtray. They hit it off. I had nothing to do with it. We didn’t know that he was married or that he had a daughter or whatever…” I said whatever. Why did I say whatever? It sounded…bad. Wrong. I couldn’t take it back, and I hated that I didn’t know how to get through to her. Jesse turned around at the door, the keys dangling in her fist.
“Not married. My parents were never married. I’m not mad at you for that.”
Ten gallons of air hit my lungs at the same time. Okay. That narrowed it down to the deal with Darren. I could work with that. She got out of the apartment. I shadowed her movements, watching as she slammed the door and locked it.
“Darren tricked me. He doesn’t even have a fucking lisp, dude.”
“I know.” She pocketed the keys in her backpack, and I waited for her to say something more, but she didn’t. Instead of heading toward the main street, like I thought she would, she took a sharp turn into an alleyway. I hurried after her, running my fingers over my hair.
“Your stepfather knew I needed an investment. He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,” I said, then realized how fucking bad that sounded. “Okay. Yeah. I could have, and should have, but having sex with you was never a part of the plan. He wanted us to be friends, and I never thought I’d break that promise, anyway.”
“Were we friends when I sucked your cock in your bed? When we had sex in your shower?” She chuckled darkly, pacing faster, giving me her back. The alleyway was long and narrow. It sliced two rows of stores, and was dark and full of huge-ass industrial garbage bins. It smelled like hell, and felt a lot like it, too.
“Listen, you need to stop and turn the fuck around, because I’m going to say it once and only once. I don’t repeat myself, Jesse, and won’t make an exception for you.”
I didn’t know where it came from. I just decided to mix shit up and try a different tactic. And whaddayaknow? It worked. Snowflake stopped and did as I asked. We were standing opposite to each other, panting hard.
Do this, motherfucker, or regret not doing it for the rest of your life.
I raised my hands to rub her arms before remembering that I’d lost that right about a day ago. I balled my fists beside my body instead.
“Look, I didn’t know it’d be this way. I didn’t know being this way was even a fucking possibility. This feeling shit? I’m new to it, Jesse. But I swear, at no point, before or after I knew you, did I ever mean you any harm. I love you, Jesse. I fell in love with your soul before I even knew who you were. With that Pushkin tattoo, and that defiant stare, and the way you carried yourself like a disobedient goddess who didn’t belong here with all the snotty mortals of the beach. Even as I stand here now, I continue falling, because you’re a part of the only fucking person who resembled a father figure to me, and also a part of the reason I quit doing the toxic shit that reminded me who I was made of. You’re all my good parts wrapped together in a satin bow, Snowflake, and I can’t lose you. Because if I lose you, I stay with all the bad parts. I stay alone.”
“You love me?”
“Whollytrulymadly,” I mumbled, feeling like a dickless high school poem.
She smiled serenely. Like that part I was talking about wasn’t there anymore. Then she turned her back to me and gestured with her arm like this place was her kingdom.