Jack and Djinn (The Houri Legends, #1)(42)

She heard Jack behind her, pleading with her, but she heard Gramps’ voice raised over his, “Let her go, son. It’s her choice. Let her go.” Jack seemed close to sobbing, and she heard Gramps say, “If she loves you, son, she’ll find a way.”

Oh, Jack.

Miriam slid into the leather seat, hearing Ben’s ragged breathing beside her. “I’m glad you came to your senses, Miri,” he said, wiping blood from his chin. She wasn’t sure this was coming to her senses, but she didn’t know what else to do.





*





Ben was silent all the way back to his apartment, and that suited Miriam just fine. She had nothing to say. She had gone with him to stop the violence, not to be with him. The thought of letting him touch her, after what she’d experienced with Jack…no way. Not again. She would die before she let Ben touch her again. She delved inside herself for the coiled heat of the magic, seeking its reassurance, feeling it brush against her, reaching for her.

She followed Ben into his apartment, sat down on the couch, and rubbed her aching, dirty feet. She had kicked off her heels and was now shoeless. She desperately wanted to change out of the dress, but she had no clothes here. Except…she glanced at Ben, leaning against a counter in the kitchen, an icepack against his cheek, staring at his phone, ignoring her now. She padded on silent feet into Ben’s room, dug in the bottom drawer of the dresser, and found a pair of gray U of M sweat pants and a long T-shirt with a picture of a long-eared, sad-looking donkey on the front. Eeyore? Really? Miriam hated the thought of wearing her clothes, but anything was better than being on display for Ben.

When she came out, Ben glanced up and saw what she was wearing. “What the hell, Miriam? You can’t just go around wearing other people’s clothes. Besides, I liked you in that dress.”

He was acting as if nothing had happened, as if everything was normal.

She stood in the entry to the kitchen, letting her disgust and hate for him show in her eyes, letting her anger boil just beneath the surface. “I don’t care what you like, Ben. I’m not here for you. Nothing has changed—you need understand that.” She wanted to let the fire burst through her skin, send it out to consume him, but she reined it in. “I’m not your girlfriend anymore. I’m nothing to you. No one. I f*cking hate you, Ben. I only came with you because those people didn’t deserve that.”

Ben shifted forward, placing his hands on her arms, acting as if he cared. As if he had a single kind bone in his body. “But you came, and that’s what counts.” He leaned in as if to kiss her, and she jerked herself out of his grasp, clenched her fist, and swung it at him with all her strength. She felt her fist connect with his jaw, heard a resounding crack, and Ben flew backward against the wall. He stared at her in shock, then spat a tooth out into his palm, along with gob of blood and saliva.

“What the f*ck, Miriam?” He probed the gap where his tooth had been with his tongue.

“You do not get to touch me. You don’t lay a goddamn finger on me,” Miriam said.

Her anger was roused, her adrenaline pumping. She didn’t care anymore. He could do what he wanted, say what he wanted. She’d had an amazing man, and she’d walked away from him. Now she was fearless.

He threw the tooth away, ripped a strip of paper towel from a roll hanging under a cabinet, placed a piece of ice in it, and held it against his gum. “I’ll let that one go, but if you ever do that to me again, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Miriam interrupted. “Beat me half to death? Oh, wait, you already did that. Break my ribs? Crack my cheekbones? Yep, you’ve done all that, too. What’s left, Ben? Or should I even ask? Are you going to actually rape me this time? Bring Rachel over here and screw her in front of me? Or maybe you want a threesome? Is that it? Want us both at the same time?” She slammed her palms against his chest, knocking him backward with more force than she’d ever possessed. “Or maybe I should drop to my knees and suck you off like a good little girlfriend? But then, I wasn’t ever your girlfriend, was I? I was just a…what was it Rachel called me? A side-f*ck? A piece of ass on the side?”

“It wasn’t like that,” he mumbled. “Seriously, Miriam, what the hell has gotten into you?” Ben pushed past her and retreated to the living room.

“What’s gotten into me? I’m finally past caring what you do or say, that’s what.” She followed him, feeling invincible.

She knew he’d snap eventually, but she didn’t care. She’d lost Jack, and nothing else mattered.

“You need to calm down.” Ben sat down and turned on the TV, trying to dismiss her. She grabbed the remote from him and hurled it at the flat-screen TV screen, the glass smashing and splintering.

“Don’t tell me to calm down! You’ve treated me like shit for a year, and I let you! You hit me and insulted me, made me feel like shit, and what do I do? Do I leave you, like any sane person would? No! I stayed with you, because I was weak and pathetic, and because I even wondered if somehow, deep down maybe, past all the bullshit, that you cared about me even a little bit. But then I find out that you’ve had another girlfriend the whole time. And she knew about me?” Miriam was pacing in front of Ben, seething with rage. The fire inside was nearly uncontainable, sizzles of heat and fire popping from her pores, her hair flickering and wavering as if alive.