Crazy Girl(79)

The water hose.

I knew what I was about to do would enrage him to some degree. I could very well be about to make him loathe me more than he already did. But I would fight for him, make him snap out of it. And sometimes fighting meant pulling some really crazy shit, but he already knew I was crazy, so it shouldn’t be that surprising to him.

The hose nozzle had been set on jet stream. That was unfortunate for me. More so for Wren. Probably should have checked that first, but I was in a bit of a hurry with him trying to walk inside his house and out of my life forever. Checking minimal details like that didn’t matter. When I aimed at his back and squeezed, the water shot out like a bullet nailing him between his shoulder blades. I almost laughed when he whipped around, his dark eyes wide, but when his gaze filled with shock and rage, my desire to yuck it up quickly evaporated.

Well, the good news was I’d definitely gotten his attention.

That was for sure.

The bad news was…I’d definitely gotten his attention.

It was the blink of an eye between the time I squeezed the nozzle and the moment he was fighting me for it. “Are you fucking crazy?” he shouted. He was far stronger than me, but I managed to hold the nozzle in my death grip. Water sprayed above us and around us as we struggled for control, both of us grunting and cursing. As we fought, the jet stream hit my bare skin, ripping across it, burning from the pressure.

“I just wanted to talk. You made me do this,” I stammered as he yanked me sideways.

“That’s the phrase of deranged attackers and abusers. I didn’t make you do a damned thing. Let it go, Hannah!” he shouted, the spray hitting him in the face. “God damn it!” He groaned, wiping at his face with his free hand.

“Not until you talk to me,” I yelled back.

He stilled, and brought both hands down, holding his hands around mine, the water spraying straight up and raining down on us, catching on our lashes and dripping from his beard. Looking me dead in my eyes, he inhaled a breath I knew was meant to steady him; calm him. The muscles in his jaw twitched as he closed his eyes for a long moment. Then, his tone stern, he uttered, “Please let it go.”

I searched his face, his gaze, for some sign I’d brought him back to the table; that maybe he’d hear me out, but I wasn’t sure. So long as I was holding the damn nozzle, he might stay and talk to me. But I feared though my intentions were only to get him to hear me out, I may have only made it worse. I’d made my point…a very loud and obnoxious point, and it was time for me to abandon my efforts. I nodded and relaxed my hands giving him control of the hose. He jerked his arm hard, tossing it aside, the metal nozzle clinking against the paved driveway.

We were both soaked. His gray T-shirt was plastered to his body, accentuating every curve of the muscles of his chest. I couldn’t see myself, but my clothes clung to my skin, heavily. Placing his hands on his hips, something I noticed he did often while he was thinking, he looked at anything but me. “Leave.”

Warm tears pooled in my eyes. “I’m not leaving.”

I swallowed, second-guessing my actions. Maybe hosing him down wasn’t my best idea. He seemed angrier now. I was busy processing, predicting the outcome in all of this, when in one swift move, he lifted me off of my feet and threw me over his shoulder.

I shimmied, grunting as I adjusted as best I could in the awkward position so that his shoulder wasn’t jamming me in the gut. “What are you doing?”

The cast iron gate that led to his backyard creaked as he opened it and walked through. “You wanna play in the water?” he laughed haughtily, anger and frustration laced in his tone. “Let’s play in the water.”

It took me a moment to realize he was going to throw me in the river. I immediately started squirming. “Let me down, Wren! I’m wearing white clothes! It’ll stain my clothes.”

“I have my cell phone in my pocket, which is now probably ruined after your little hose down bit, Hannah,” he answered calmly as he hoisted me up, getting a better hold on me. “You wanted my attention, crazy girl. Now you got it.” He gave my ass a hard smack making me yelp.

“Stop this!”

He smacked my ass again, harder this time. “You want to act like a child, I’m going to treat you like one.”

I squealed and squawked and wiggled, but Wren only tightened his grip. “I told you I’m a goddamned man, Hannah. I’m not some pushover pansy you’re going to treat like this and I’ll just turn the other cheek because that’s what a gentleman would do. You poked the bear, babe.” When he hit the pier, his sandals smacked against his feet and the wood as he walked what I was now considering the plank. I managed to kick my shoes off as he walked, at least, sparing them from getting ruined.

“You’re going to throw me in? Really, Wren?” I attempted to reason with him. There was no point in both of us being unreasonable. I knew it was hypocritical of me, but I didn’t care. “What is the point in this? I’m already wet.”

He said nothing. Shit.

I let my body go limp, not fighting him. I’d asked for this after all, right? Maybe not being spanked, or getting thrown in the river, but I’d wanted his attention, no matter the consequences, and here it was. I had one hundred percent of his attention.

“Play stupid games. Win stupid prizes,” he said before he lifted me and threw me off the end. I hit the water, which was surprisingly cool for this time of summer and emerged quickly. The water was too deep for me to touch so I had to tread and as soon as my head popped out of the water, I looked up and he was standing on the end of the dock, his muscular arms crossed over his chest, watching me. I sniffled, a little breathless from treading water, but I didn’t attempt to swim to the ladder to climb out. I stared up at him, the pillar of a beautiful man he was, even wet and disheveled. His eyes—those dark and inky pools that had always made me weak—spoke every word he was thinking.